The Forgotten Accounts of a Girl Unloved
by SweetReverie13
Summary: I'm sure this is a story heard before: What if Snape and Lily were together?  However, this tale is not of a sappy tale of their romantic adventures, but rather their romantic mistake, a daughter named Elizabeth, and how she brought out the good in Snape
1. Prologue: A Magical Paradox

A Magical mystery

"Sev, you're trembling," whispered Lily, her graceful fingers twirling around Severus' ebony locks as she examined the flush of the cheeks of one whose skin was usually so sallow from lack of light. She leaned contentedly into his side as they lay juxtaposed on the grass, smiling at the sight of her breathless lover.

Severus couldn't speak. His whole life, he had felt slighted, beaten, doomed, and unfairly chosen for every single thing that could go wrong in a life, but now, _now_ he realized that he had only been unaware of what it really could be. Life was what flushed through his cheeks after the most beautiful, intimate moment he had ever experienced with anyone in the fifteen years he had been alive. It had caused him and Lily to subside in a moment of forgetfulness, forgetting what people thought of them when they walked the halls of Hogwarts together, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin. They had turned it into a moment both could never forget.

"We have to go," said Lily as she dressed in a slow, deliberate manner, "Someone might see us here."

"They might as well. People should know that we're…together now. Especially that foul Potter," smiled Snape ruggedly, feeling like quite the man for once.

"Oh, give it a rest, will you? I'm too happy to hear that name. Come on, we're going to be late for Potions, and I know _you_ wouldn't like to miss_ that_ would you?"

Oh _yes_, Potter would give up magic to be in his, Severus's, shoes right now.


	2. Just Elizabeth

"You're being ridiculous!" cried Elizabeth. "I can't be _just_ Elizabeth. No one's born with_ only _a first name!"

"Well, I don't give a damn. You were bloody sent here, and the note said _just Elizabeth, _so stop being a bloody little pest and give a woman some time with her booze!"

The bull-faced orphanage matron, Madam Babcock, downed her third glass of sherry of the morning before using her brutish strength and refined accuracy to hurl the empty bottle at the pest. Luckily, Elizabeth had the advantage of a tall, willowy figure, which helped her speed out the door and slam it shut before she heard the familiar sound of glass shattering on the other side.

"You're lucky I'm not coming after you, you pesty lil' brat! You'll regret it next time I see you!" It was a threat they both knew to be fictitious seeing as how Madam Babcock could not so much as leave her chair in her drunken state as chase after the ever elusive Elizabeth.

However, there was another reason Elizabeth was confident that Madam Babcock would not make her regret her actions. She was leaving, running away. She had had enough of the cold, unloving, and unforgiving orphanage life. It didn't pay to live another second in this place she had called her home for the past ten and a half years.

There had to be something better than this. That hope kept Elizabeth going; it was almost like a burning glow inside her. She was special; her very being _knew_ this. When Tommy Blot and Karen Fletching had called her a toad-faced mutant made fun of her during a school picnic, she had, after a moment of blinding anger, somehow caused the grass around their red and white checkered picnic cloth to encompass her defiler's feet and snap at their legs like an angry dog. She could not say how she knew it had been her doing. But it had been, she was sure, and the other children seemed to sense it too. None of them ever dared to make fun of her from that day on. Madam Babcock had not seen, and had reasoned that the children avoided the harmless-looking, raven haired girl because she was some sort of outcast. The disastrous outing spurred Elizabeth to long-awaited action. She began to plan her escape from the dreary prison they called an orphanage.

Elizabeth was so furious she almost stomped down the hallway as if to say _Here I am, leaving this damned orphanage. See if you can stop me!_ In a flash of anger, the escapist found herself heading straight towards the bolted door that loomed at very end of the tunnel that connected all the rooms of the orphanage. If there was one thing that Elizabeth lacked, it certainly was not preparedness. She almost magically produced an unfolded paper clip from the folds of her drabby brown school uniform and expertly unlocked the supposedly trusty and rusty lock that the matron used to keep the orphanage valuables safe. The door swung open with only the tiniest of creaks which Elizabeth thanked the gods for. Any noise louder than a mouse's squeak could be heard echoing all through the tunnel. Surprisingly, the room that the door opened to was filled with plain looking cabinets running up and down in aisles like a library for mysterious objects. "Brocking, Deleris, Esther, no...no," murmured Elizabeth as she scanned the multitude of cabinets which she found contained valuables that parents may have left their children before they left, "…oh, Elizabeth!"

She gently slid her hand into the dark depths of the metal container with her name on it and came in reach of a solid, rectangular object about her two hand's length. Holding her breath, she extracted the box. She frowned. It was a lot less than she expected from a mother who gave such pains to have her. Elizabeth almost grew teary at the thought that her mother never really even cared for her at all. Before she gave in to her emotions, she quickly pried open the plain wooden box.

"A letter…and a key," mulled the now curious girl, "but for what?"

The letter was crinkly as if the writer had been desperate not to let go of it, and with a strange assertiveness, Elizabeth tore open the envelope and pulled out a loosely folded two-page letter. As she opened to read what it said, a miniature color-filled photograph fell out and drifted onto the floor. She gingerly picked it up and wiped the dust away, aware of what this moment implied. She turned over the photograph to see the picture.

_This…is my...mother? This is my mother! But we look like we could be sisters! Then, this must be a photo of when she was younger! Her face, MY face. Her eyes, MY eyes exactly! Hmm…our only differences are our noses, mine's being a tad longer and our hair, hers is like an auburn, while mine is…pitch black. But our EYES, our eyes are exactly the same! _

Indeed, Elizabeth almost felt like she was looking into a mirror with changed colors. The woman in the photograph had sweeping auburn hair, the happier version of Elizabeth's dreary ebony locks which had always given her an air of inscrutability.

Feeling as she had waited too long for this moment to finally reconnect with her unseen mother, she immediately began reading her letter, her lips forming the words that had been shakily scribbled in ink onto pieces of parchment as if it would let her physically hear what her mother wanted to say:

_My Darling Elizabeth,_

_ You have suffered too much, and this mother has no idea how she could ever be sorry enough for the terrible, wretched thing she has done . I never wanted it to be this way, but you must believe me when I say that you are living a better life where you are now than if you were with me. _

_Yes, your mother is a fool, a bloody, bloody fool for trusting the wrong man with her love. I've should have seen it from the start; he was bound for dark magic (I'll explain this part soon) the day we met. Elizabeth, I love you, but I'm so ashamed of having proof of ever having this heart broken that I couldn't bear to be with you right now. When I saw your face or every time I try to imagine how you would look, I see **him** and his protrusion of a nose and his greasy black hair. _

_However, this letter is not only an upsetting story of how I made an irreparable mistake. I'm here to tell you that you are a special girl, (and not only in the sense that you are my special girl.) As you've probably observed, you are different from other children in your school, talented in ways that probably none of them are. I'm here to tell you that you're a witch._

Elizabeth stopped reading at this line. _A witch?_ _Could that even be possible? Even if it is true, it sounds unpleasant_.

_You're probably thinking I'm lost my marbles or that somehow that this whole letter now is a phony, but deep inside you, I'm sure if you were truly a witch, some part of you would know that what I'm about to say is true:_

_There is a whole world of wizards, witches and magic out there, just waiting for you to discover. To be honest, when I first heard about it, I was just as amazed as you are right now. Yet, somehow, the truth complete d me rather than confused me. You know how you can do strange things like control nature and bend it with your will? Or in the times that you are extremely angry, some miracle should happen in your favor? That's the magic in you that your father and I have passed down in our blood. _

_And if I am fortunate enough to have this letter placed into your hands before you are eleven years old, I'm very happy to tell you that you are eligible to enter my former secondary in a school named Hogwarts. It is one of the best magic schools of all, a striking, hoary castle in the heart of lush greeneries. Its location and other information that you might need are written on the back of the second page of this letter, and if I'm unlucky enough to never see you again as I feel will be, take this key to Gringotts, a goblin-protected bank in the center of Diagon Alley. You'll find that I haven't left you destitute, and most importantly, I want you to come find me. Give the golden timepiece ten turns of the long hand once you've left the bank and come find me. I'll be here waiting for you, Elizabeth. _

_P.S. Never look for your father, and if by chance you meet him, do not tell him who you are._

_Lots of Love,_

_Lily Evans_

Elizabeth sat still for a moment. For some reason, she couldn't trust her newfound magic the same way her mother had. A mental block limited her, reasoning that if this magic really existed and she was indeed special in the way her mother described, why couldn't her lost relations have somehow magically whisked her away into a better life?

Rising slowly from the ground, she made her decision. For the first time in her life, she would trust on a whim. This was her mother after all; even if she didn't believe this magic in her heart yet, she was going to search for the answer, for the truth of why she was such an unloved being.


	3. Change of Heart

Chap.3: Change of Heart

Lily stepped out of her Transfiguration feeling uneasy, her stomach tumbling in circles like a washing machine. She frowned. It had been happening for several days now, she'll have to see Madam Promfrey, the school nurse, about this. All of the sudden, Lily felt her body heave, and she leaned onto the nearest wall with her palm and puked.

"All right, E..Lily?"

A shabby haired figure approached Lily. She looked up and immediately turned away in contempt. It was the perpetual pest, James Potter.

"Go away, Potter. I don't need your assistance." She roughly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and spun around to leave.

"Wait, Lily! Why do you always walk away from me like that?"

She turned back around slowly to face him, a single eyebrow raised, unsure of how to respond to the clear, honest question.

"Well," she sputtered, "You're an absolute bully and not altogether the nicest person of sorts-don't you think?"

James walked a little closer with his hands in his pockets, his brown eyes lingering on the green ones the whole time. "I don't really, Lily. Bully people I mean. I only do it around you, only to Sniv…Severus."

Lily suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable and the heat around her face seemed to have intensified. She was careful not to be too mesmerized by the sweetness of the hazel irises. _I can't do this!_ _How heartless would this be to Sev? And over James? I will __not__ like Potter, never in a million years._

"P-precisely, why _do _you pick on the poor boy so much?"

"Because you like him!" James burst out, "He's likes you…_adores_ you, and he's always been your best friend, and I haven't the faintest idea why!"

"Well, why not, Potter? Why in the world not?" replied Lily haughtily, previous barriers returning instantly, her moment of weakness over. "Do you believe _you_ deserve this title or something? And just so you know, I like him back! We could be a regular pair if we wanted to, and it is _none_ of your business, thank you very much."

"Then why aren't you two already a couple?"

The question struck her oddly, even more deeply than the previous one, and the walls she had struggled to put up between her and James were crumbling again. The words resonated within her like a thunderous bell that caused her insides to awaken and was so overpowering that Lily had to close her eyes for she was feeling quite light-headed. The thought of the truth kept pecking at the drawstrings of her heart like a festering infection.

"Why…_why_ we haven't…" thought Lily out loud and then quickly turned away, "I have to go."

"HE'S A SLYTHERIN! HE'LL NEVER BE RIGHT FOR YOU AND YOU KNOW IT!" James called after her.

Lily couldn't hear him anymore; she could hardly even hear her own thoughts as she stumbled towards the hospital wing. Yet, she knew inside her that she couldn't run away like this forever.

Something about the hospital wing was strangely calming as Lily walked into the one place of all the rooms of Hogwarts where there was not a soul around, albeit the wing's supervisor, Madam Pomfrey.

"Hello, dear, something wrong?" inquired the nurse kindly upon seeing Lily's entrance.

Lily stopped to think about why she was there. "Oh, yes! I've actually been having these bouts of puking every morning and I can't imagine why."

"Could you have consumed one of those blasted Puking Pills? Terrible practical joke, really."

"Every morning, madam? That's a bit of a stretch."

"Hmm…true, then I'll take a sample of your blood to see what's going on."

She revealed a pin, no wider than a speck of dust.

"Your hand please, Lily." The procedure was relatively quick and painless, but the result was a small cut on the tip of Lily's forefinger and vial of blood about the size of a thimble. The nurse swiftly took out her wand and with a swish, cried, "_Ostendam!_"

She leaned down and observed the self-swirling fluid, which was morphing fantastically into numerous shapes and splatters.

"Well?" asked Lily expectantly. Madam Pomfrey's expression turned grey.

"You did not seem like the type I am quite disappointed in you, Lily," she said coldly, "You know that sleeping with another student or anyone at all on school grounds is strictly forbidden."

Lily gasped. "How do you know?"

Promfrey held up the glass vial in disgust, "You're pregnant."


	4. Gringotts

Gringotts

It was actually a lot easier to escape the institution than Elizabeth thought. Perhaps she wasn't as elusive as she thought but rather merely remarkably unnoticeable, yet she then decided that one was simply the pleasanter version of the other, so elusive Elizabeth it was.

Elizabeth couldn't remember the last time she felt so free from anyone's rules, so uncaring about what others thought of her. She sauntered down street after street following the instructions of the map on the back page of the well-worn letter, a feature that made the already complicated map hard to read. _Well, hullo, finally! Menvel Street!_ A quaint old sign post directed Elizabeth into a rather shady looking alley, filled with odd looking men and women in multi-colored capes and gowns, and oddly enough, the end of the street was a battered brick wall, the most ordinary of sorts, and didn't seem to lead to any Diagon Alley that the map claimed it led to.

"Hullo? Sir? Do you know the way to Diagon Alley? It seems I've hit a dead end here." asked Elizabeth to the nearest passerby.

"Eh? Who's askin'?" grunted the grumpy looking old man in the most spectacular of purple robes. "Are ye eh Muggle?"

"A…what sir?"

"A MUGGLE."

"A muck gold? No sir, I just wanted to find the…" Elizabeth shuffled through the papers of her mother's letters and asked uncertainly, "…Gringotts Bank in Diagon Alley?"

"Aye, that'll be alright then. This way!" shouted the little man who moved at incredible speed for his age. Elizabeth ran to catch up to him as he flitted about on his stumpy legs towards the back of the alleyway until he reached the red brick wall. Elizabeth looked at the frumpy looking structure wondering if she'd have to scale it in order to reach this mysterious bank.

"Here we are, lil' missus. Name's Moble by the way, Manifole Moble," grinned the suddenly gracious fellow before he procured an unusually glossy oaken rod from the folds of his fantastic lavender gown and began tapping at random bricks with the lavish twig. Elizabeth wondered at this man's sanity when she felt a rumble coming from the wall as if a small earthquake right under her feet. The wall was rose as one, a continuous tide that seemed to have been hidden beneath the cracks of the ground until an opening appeared big enough that Elizabeth could see and enter through to the other side.

And the other side was amazing. Rows and rows of shops selling all sorts of astonishing merchandises from crystal cauldrons to a breed of flying cat creating an atmosphere of a wild daytime bazaar. It was like peering into another world through a looking glass, a sort of alternate reality. Elizabeth found it odd that she hadn't heard the obvious commotion she was hearing now before when she was on the other side of the wall.

"Nice, eh? Best bunch o' goods you'll ever find in this side o' London," said Moble suddenly, cutting into Elizabeth's dream-like gaze.

"Well, Mr. Moble. It's my first time in, er, this side of town. It was really kind of you to do this." She gave the little bearded man a quick peck on the cheek and said as she started walking off, "I have to be off now, nice meeting you!"

The blushing man was too entranced by the kiss to realize Elizabeth was leaving. "Wait, miss! I didn't even getcher aim…I mean name!"

"I'm Elizabeth! Just…Elizabeth!" laughed Elizabeth freely as she pranced out of Mr. Moble's sight into the new world of her discovery, her mother's world. Her mother had not lied! At least there was one person she could trust on this planet.

"Be sure to find me at Moble's Mobiles sometime, 'Lizabeth!"

"Will do, sir!"

It was hard to miss the Gringotts bank that stood the largest building at the center of an array of grand stores with the words Gringotts written across the entrance in a more obvious manner than a football marquee. There was definitely something very goblin about the design as well, the interior walls being studded with the metal carvings of the heads of famous goblin bankers. Elizabeth once again felt insignificant as she entered the hectic building. If she died then and there, she doubted anyone would have noticed among the hustling and bustling of men, women, and not so very human beings. Cautiously, the willowy girl ambled toward the nearest available counter and peered over a dark-colored desk, chin barely able to rest on top of it. A long-nosed, pointy eared creature with the visage resembling a sullen, old man peered down at her, nose raised high the whole time. He clearly didn't want his time wasted, and with a name like Clenchclaw which was printed on the metal nametag clipped painfully neatly on the goblin's starched, white collar, Elizabeth didn't want to stay too long as well.

"Name and purpose?" asked the goblin with a gravelly voice that sounded like metals grinding against each other.

She stared him squarely in the eyes, straining to show no fear. "Elizabeth, er…Evans here to open a safe with these keys." She produced the keys from her robes with the same magical quality as she had with the paper clip.

"Hm, quick hands," Clenchclaw observed, "Don't think you'll be able to do anything of that grade without expecting…consequences." He smiled thinly and delicately lifted the keys out her hand with two claw-like nails on a hand with fingers twice the length of its palm. "Follow me, please."

Elizabeth felt like she was a rat in a never-ending maze. Clenchclaw had led her through a good thirty right turns and at _least_ forty left ones in a ghastly tunnel that connected to thousands other ones, but she wouldn't allow herself to complain; if the orphanage had taught her anything, it was to endure.

"We are here." He turned the key to the ceiling to floor safe and said as if to read her mind, "You're lucky your chamber is nearby one or we would have had such an…adventure."

_Lovely._ thought Elizabeth as she stepped into the open gates.

"We have a policy here, Ms. Evans. Ten minutes alone and then I check up on you, so…take your time." He bowed stiffly and then turned to slam the iron door.

Elizabeth stared at what was in front of her. A waist high pile of coins gleamed at the center of enormous room like a lush hill with gold for blades of grass and beckoned with a promise of warmth and bliss. A bare, wooden chest lay in stark contrast with the golden glory, but for some reason was more alluring than the thousands of little objects beside it. She walked towards it, gripped the handles, and gave them a hard tug. The trunk contained a set of school-looking garments, an old, leather messenger bag, a long ashen branch that looked like the one Mr. Moble carried, a tiny gold pocket watch, and a dusty train ticket. Elizabeth quickly exchanged her dreary, orphanage robes for the prettier, vintage cardigans that symbolized her new school. She smiled; she liked the sound of Hogwarts already.

Elizabeth was glad she was outside of the stuffy and dark bank. Wooden stick in hand, and a sack filled with cheerfully jingling coins, Elizabeth reached into one of the bag's pockets and took out the pocket watch her mother had told her to use. She was about to turn it, wondering what on earth would turning the ordinary-looking watch would do, but paused to admire and absorb the situation. The sunlight felt good on her cheeks, and anyone who was watching would agree that she needed the exposure. Her gaze wandered towards her reflection in a nearby shop window and was surprised at the person it revealed. She reached up to feel her face. She looked so sickly and thin; her skin was wan, her cheeks slightly sunken from the little nourishment Madam Babcock's institution provided, and her hair was too long, bedraggled, and looked like generations of crows had nested in it. Her scrawny frame did help her look any less like a homeless person either. She frowned, wondering, _How did I get this way? _

Then she observed the street square. Children were running about happily with strange looking brown toads in their hands, while the chatting mothers busied themselves with cups of tea, eying their children lest they get out of hand. Teenage girls were happily running their hands through their luscious, _clean_ hair, flirting with equally interested young men who were showing off with their sticks, or as Elizabeth suspected from reading magical fairytales, wands, to make glittering hearts in air. The world seemed to pass by Elizabeth, colors that shone and swirled like the wind around her, while in her little bubble, time stood still. It was all too much her. All the cheeriness and merriment that she was never part of_. _All the smiles toward pretty strangers while she was always a potential danger. These fools did not know about what it was like to be left out because even now, Elizabeth knew she didn't belong. No one here would give her a second thought; at least at the orphanage she was feared, and for some twisted second, Elizabeth craved for everyone to experience the agonizing hurt she felt inside as she gripped tightly on her wand.

It began with a scream, a single, shrill shriek from a woman whose front side looked like it had been slashed with a small, but lethally sharp knife. Blood welled up thickly and poured out of her wounds, turning her pale, clover robes a deep maroon. Soon after, a whole assembly of cries could be heard from the crowd of people that Elizabeth had been staring at. She snapped, realizing it could have been _her_ that was causing all this. Several trained wizards already had their wands out and were trying to heal the wounded people's injuries. One wizard in black robes who had been silently sipping his tea and observing the emerging chaos promptly turned around. She gasped. He was looking directly at her with a knowing expression on his face, and he only had _one real eye_. The other one looked strapped on and rolled around in his head in the vilest manner.

Elizabeth fumbled with the watch chain, praying that whatever it did, it would take her away from this horrific scene. She turned the dial _one time, two times, three times…ten!_ Almost immediately, a strange sensation of getting pulled through a noodle strainer came over her. It was like as if a giant with humongous lungs was slurping through a narrow straw where Elizabeth was one of the contents of the drink getting sucked into a gigantic, dismal black hole.

Then all of a sudden, she was not tumbling through the air anymore. Looking at her feet, Elizabeth was surprised that she was situated on solid ground. However, the sun was no longer beating down on her skin. It was a bitter, gloomy day all of a sudden. _How the bloody hell did I…._

She looked around her. Same square. Same bank. Everything appeared pretty much exactly the way she left it. Then she remembered. The people were no longer screaming, and that creepy man was not staring at her and sending chills up and down her spine anymore. She sighed a breath of relief. Elizabeth didn't know quite how, but she had made the situation go away. Yet, she was still quite shaken from what she saw. On the bright side, this magic thing seemed so easy to her. She was a genie fulfilling her own wishes, but would just have to…control her urges.

Elizabeth decided something had to be done about her appearance. Perhaps people would more readily accept her if she looked more approachable and it was not like she couldn't afford these things now. Walking down a series of shops, she stepped into what seemed like a viable beauty parlor oddly named Tiara's Terrific Transformations Beauty Parlor. _Oh dear, I hope this isn't one of those places where people have their faces replaced by plastic just so they look like the people on telly._ A slim, grossly perfect-looking young blonde stepped out from behind the counter when Elizabeth entered, gave the raven-haired girl a once over and frowned.

"Well, we'll have to do quite the transformation on you, dear, won't we?" speaking more to herself than anyone else.

Elizabeth bit her lip and started backing away.

"No matter! Come along now. There's absolutely nothing that Tiara can't beautify!" and with a grab of her arm, Elizabeth was dragged into the back of the store. She was led into a room. For a second, she couldn't see, but then, she blinked her eyes, squinting in the sunlight. _Sunlight! How could this be? I'm inside a buildin_g_!_

The environment was made to feel like a mystical evergreen glade complete with the trickle of streams and the gentle pounding of waterfalls. There were grass hills and one main river that flowed through the middle of the room and divided it in two.

"How…How did you make this place?" exclaimed Elizabeth.

Tiara smirked, but not unkindly. "Honey, there's a spell for _everything_ these days. Hell, I have trouble thinking about one bloody thing you can't do with magic as long as you have the skill it takes to do it. Now, lie on this soft blanket…thaaat's it. Close your eyes. Sleep, my darling. Once you're awake, you'll be the beautiful you that you never knew existed." She took bottles of scents and mixed it in with the air. "And two hundred Galleons poorer," Tiara muttered under her breath. Elizabeth couldn't hear the last part, for she was already asleep, utterly drained from the day's ordeals.


	5. The Lasting Legacy of Lily Evans

Before I start this chapter, I have to credit some of this banter to JK Rowling and her chapters on Snape's Worst Memory and The Prince's Tale. I just wanted the story to seem more fitting within her story, so you will have heard some of this before.

Chap: 5 No turning back

It was the better part of eight months during which Lily had to carry the burden of her new baby within her. During this time, she and Madam Pomfrey, whom she convinced to give her a chance, used countless Concealment Charms and Anti-Vomiting medicines to keep the illegitimate child a secret. Over these months, Lily had been changing on the inside as well, and not in the sense of her growing belly. She began to do the unthinkable, commit the very sin that she had promised herself she could never would; she began seeing the wrong in Severus and despised it, and consequently, she had fallen for James instead. But no matter how hard Lily tried to veil her altering self, it was hard even for the insensitive Severus not to notice the odd changes in Lily.

"Lily, is there something you're not telling me?" asked Severus in a concerned voice as he sat down at the Gryffindor table next to her at lunch, Lily nearly choked on the steak and asparagus sandwich which she had been contentedly snacking on.

"Excuse me?" she gasped between her rapid breaths.

"You've been…distant with me for a while now, after the…you know…the incident near the lake? Was I..." he cleared his throat, "that unpleasant?"

Lily stared open-mouthed, then realized what he was implying.

"Oh! Oh, No, no, no. You were terrific!" Lily exclaimed a little too loudly. She blushed, "I mean, that's not the problem." She continued eating her sandwich, refusing to meet Sev's unwavering gaze. Everybody was staring at them now, and several of the girls were giggling behind their palms and exchanging indicative looks.

"Nothing like a good ol' rumpy pumpy, eh?" jeered Gavin Cowrupper, one of the more bothersome boys in school. The whole row of students sitting at the table erupted in laughter. Severus, used to the perpetual teasing, continued to wait for an answer, but Lily just wanted dig a hole for herself and die in it.

"That was not what we were talking about at all!" she said in a huff, quite crimson in the cheeks.

She got up and walked out of the dining hall with what was left of her pride, heading straight for the hospital wing in search of the one companion that had remained constant through this struggle of hers.

"Poppy, it's terrible!" she lamented to Madam Pomfrey whom she considered more a friend than a nurse now. "Everyone knows now! What am I going to do? This baby is ruining my life!" She looked down, unsure if her next question would go over well. "Is there…_could_ there be some way for it to happen sooner?" She left the end of the sentence hanging, giving her friend some room to think.

Pomfrey grimaced, unsure if she was doing the right thing. "Well, there _is_ one way…"

Lily gasped in delight. "Oh, please, would you? Please? This would mean so much to me! I'll be forever in your debt."

"You're already in my debt," said Madam Pomfrey quite matter-of-factly. "_However,_ I could make an exception just this once…then this whole rather dastardly incident would be over and done with…"

"Oh, yes! Precisely! You'll never have to worry about me _ever_ again!"

"Well, all right, Lily. It has to be done tonight, and just so you know, it is extremely dangerous and painful as childbirth always is. Have you thought about what you will do with the child afterwards?"

"Of course, Poppy! I've been looking up London's orphanages at the library. Apparently there's one headed by a Madam Babcock that's been really successful in bringing up happy, normal children. Sounds perfect for…Elizabeth…or Harry."

"I'm sorry, for who?"

"My baby. I've been thinking about what I'd name it. I'm pretty settled on Harry if it's a boy, and Elizabeth if it's a girl."

"Looks like you've been finally thinking for the good of the baby," said Pomfrey, giving Lily an approving sidelong glance.

"Well…I don't want it to suffer excessively. It's…_my_ baby after all," muttered Lily unhappily, and all of a sudden, she swept her aside her melancholy tone, "But I don't care. I'll just be glad when all this is over. I can't wait for normal life to start again!"

Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly, "That's not the attitude of the brave Lily I know. Being normal isn't such a good thing all the time. It's the unusual who do great things. Now, shoo before everyone actually find out about it, and come back at nine…_promptly_."

Lily looked thankfully toward Pomfrey. "You're the mother that I never had. She loves me, but she doesn't know me like you do," and with that, she swept out of the room leaving Madam Pomfrey to wonder at what she had done right.

Lily spent the rest of her day taking her important exams, OWLs and preparing for what was going to take place that night. She was with her friends as girls usually are and was dangling her feet in the coolness of the lake, relaxing, when she spied Severus on the other side of the courtyard. Guilt rushed through her like a flood. She couldn't explain to him why she didn't acknowledge him as at least her close friend, but perhaps...perhaps there was a chance to make amends.

She was distracted with the thoughts of how she should tell Severus the secret of their child when she heard laughter. Her gaze led her to James Potter and his pitiless gang who had Severus disarmed and frothing at the mouth with bubbly, pink soap. Rage filled her, all positive feelings for James dispelled. _And to think the bloody idiot had changed!_

"Leave him ALONE!" yelled Lily, walking up to the scene which was gathering a crowd.

"All right, Evans?" said James suddenly very self-conscious of his hair.

"Leave him alone. What's he done to you?"

"Well, more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean…"

More laughter.

"You think you're funny," Lily said grimly. "But you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him _alone_."

"I will if you go out with me, Evans," said James quickly. "Go on… go out with me and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid," she replied coldly.

James' charm on Severus had worn off and Severus had the ability to reach for his wand. He jumped at the chance to hex James and immediately James' clothing were torn and bloody in the front. Furious, James swept around and jinxed Severus in a blink of an eye, causing Severus to hang, greying underwear exposed, by his ankles in the air.

"Let him down!" Lily said once again.

"Certainly," replied James and he caused Severus to fall into a heap on the groud. But immediately after, Sirius cried, '_Petrificus Totalus!_' and Snape kneeled over once again, his arms and legs stuck firmly together.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily shouted getting tired of her own phrase. She whipped out her wand, clearly threatening to hurt James with it.

"Oh, come on, Evans, don't make me hex you," sighed James.

"Take the curse off him, then!"

James looked toward the heavens and sighed as he mumbled the counter curse.

"There you go," he said, as Snape struggled to his feet. 'You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus -'

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

Lily's heart stopped. She felt herself crumbling inside piece by piece in front of everyone, but she couldn't show it, not in front of the two boys who had just so savagely torn her apart.

"Fine," she said, looking completely unaffected. "I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, _Snivellus_."

She walked away, nose high in the air, leaving a horrified Severus to contemplate what he had done.

Lily spent the next two hours crying into her pillow. How could Sev betray her like that? And right before she almost wanted to tell him the secret of their child. But no. Such a person did not deserve to be the father of her child, or any child at all for that matter. _He's always wanted to follow that bloody Lord Voldemort. I can't let my liking for Sev to blind me from the truth: If we really got together, then I'd have to respect his wishes and end up following the wrong sort of path and making the wrong sort of friends. _She wrote the letter that would seal her baby's fate; she was sending it to an snorted in disgust._ Raising a baby together? What in the world was I thinking?_

Then, exhausted from the strain, Lily fell asleep. It was well into dusk before Lily woke up from her sleep and back into her misery. She was a mess; her usually soft, voluminous red hair was splayed coarsely all over her face, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying for hours, dried tear streaks ran down each cheek, her body felt lethargic and heavy, and worst of all, her best friend Mary MacDonald was standing over her bed seeing all of it.  
"Um, sorry to wake you, Lily. For some reason, that Slytherin, Severus, is sitting in front of the portrait hole and asking for…you," Mary said softly.  
"Thank you, Mary. Would tell him to go _away_,please?"  
"I did, but he threatened to sleep there if you didn't go meet him."  
Lily sighed. "Okay, I'll go deal with him then."  
"Are you sure you're ready?"  
Lily looked at her friend squarely in the eyes. "I'm _fine, _Mary."  
She checked her golden pocket watch she always carried around with her. It was twenty minutes till nine. She'd have to get rid of Severus quickly.  
She stood behind the portrait hole, tousled her hair and wiped her face, trying to look as unaffected as possible. She stepped through the door.  
"I'm sorry," said Severus the moment she appeared.  
Lily looked at him. He was just as much a mess as she was before, and perhaps even more distraught looking. Still, there was no excuse.  
"I'm not interested."  
"I'm sorry!" pleaded the greasy haired boy, trying to sound as sincere as he felt.  
"Save your breath," was the cold reply. Silence ensued.  
"I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here."  
"I was ! Well, I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just-"  
"Slipped out?" said Lily as she finished Severus' sentence. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends–you see, you don't even deny it! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?"  
Severus did not respond.  
"I can't…pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."  
"No listen! I didn't mean to-"  
"-to call me Mudblood? But you call every one of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"  
"Wait-" begged Severus who could not find the right things to say.  
Lily couldn't stand it anymore. She stepped back into the Gryffindor common room, only pausing to give Severus a final look of contempt. As the Fat Lady portrait swung shut, Lily felt a rush of relief pass through her. The feeling made her think she was doing the right thing.  
She waited five minutes before she opened the door again. Success! Severus was no longer there! She cloaked herself and ran out of the portrait hole but unexpectedly crashed into something she couldn't see.  
"Oof!" Lily fell backwards hard onto the floor. "What…"  
Suddenly, out of thin air, two boys appeared: James and Sirius.  
"Lily!" James exclaimed. "Sorry, we were…," he cleared his throat, "out. What are you doing leaving right before lights are out in the halls?"  
It was Lily's turn to think of an excuse. "I…ah…hurt my arm, and I'm going to Madam Pomfrey's now. Goodbye."  
"Wait!" cried James. He extended a strange looking cloak of shimmering silver. "It'll…make you undetectable."  
"Why are you helping me after I insulted you in front of everybody?"  
James shrugged. "Think of it as an apology for…you know…being such an ass."  
"_That_ you are," grinned Lily.  
"Have it your way, Evans. Just…keep it safe. Please? And tell _no one_."  
"Yes, of course." she said, giving him a calculating look. She walked away with the cloak on but not before she heard Sirius give James a punch in the arm and laugh, "Good job, mate!"

Madam Pomfrey heard footsteps approaching the wing of her building and opened the door to make sure it was her expected visitor. Lily uncloaked the invisibility-inducing garment, which made her seem to appear out of nowhere.  
"How did you…" Pomfrey began, "never mind. Just quickly, get up on that bed I've prepared for you over there. I'll have you know, I'm determined to deliver this baby as safely as can be, and pain on your behalf won't faze me from doing this right."  
"Oh, Poppy! Do you think anyone will hear?"  
"How daft do you think I am?" said the nurse as she took out dangerous looking tools. "I've magically sound proofed this whole room for one night."  
"How did I ever live without you, Poppy?" chuckled Lily lovingly as she lay down on the white sheets.  
"Honey, you were not really living before this," Pomfrey grinned. "Are you ready?"

Lily took several deep breaths before she claimed, "Yes, I'm ready."

Two hours of crying, sweating, shrieking later, Madam Pomfrey had delivered a perfect, healthy baby.

"It's a girl, Lily," she said, looking endearingly at the child she held in her arms. "It's…Elizabeth Evans."

Tears welled up slowly in Lily's soft, emerald eyes as she looked at the baby she would have to give away in a matter of hours. She thought it would be _so_ easy to let this child go, but after actually giving birth to Elizabeth, it brought her tremendous heartache.

"Could I…could I hold her, Poppy?" she whispered through her dry, cracked lips.

The nurse was reluctant to let Elizabeth go, but convinced herself that it would be just one touch, one moment; she shouldn't be afraid of the potential bond that Lily might suddenly have with Elizabeth. She handed over the infant to its mother.

Ever so softly, Lily cradled her child with her arm, tousled the puff of tiny, black hairs that dotted across the baby's head, and crooned, "Look, Poppy, she has her father's hair…but _my_ eyes and features, my eyes exactly…"

Pomfrey cleared her throat nervously and gently took the baby from Lily's arms. "That's enough now, dear. You're quite tired. You should go back to your dormitory before everyone's realizes you're gone." Lily opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again. Poppy was quite right to do this to her. She can't be attached to the baby now, it would ruin all her and Poppy's plans of continuing life normally again.

Lily took out the letter that she had been keeping tucked against her chest. "Would you please give this to the orphanage along with Eliz…the baby?" She slowly rose from the bed and stood near Madam Pomfrey, handing the nurse the letter. "Thank you, Poppy. For helping me, for _everything_. You have made me want to be a better person." She embraced the thin woman, holding on tightly to both Poppy and Elizabeth, the two most significant people that ever entered her world.

Madam Pomfrey was weeping at this point, unable to hold back her emotion unlike her usual, stoic self. "Don-don't worry, Lily," she blubbered, trying very hard to get a grip on herself, "I'll take care of everything, and I mean it."

"I know you will," asserted an expressionless Lily. That night, she left the hospital wing without ever even glancing back in hopes of getting a last glimpse of the baby girl she had forsaken. She went straight upstairs from the common room to her bedchambers where slept soundly throughout the night. She would never manage to get to really have another real conversation with Madam Pomfrey ever again, except during her graduation from Hogwarts when they greeted each other with the usual formal student-teacher congratulations and smile, although their smiles were significant; they were filled with the knowing that something special had exchanged between them, something unforgettable and life-changing. A legacy had been born.


	6. Hogwarts at Last!

Hogwarts at last!

Elizabeth woke up the next morning feeling more alive than she ever had before. Stretching, she sat up on the clean, white sheets of the bed. _Bed? Where'd that come from?_ she thought. Looking around, she remembered that she had been too exhausted to change into any of her new clothes, and simply fell into the comforting darkness immediately upon meeting the mattress the day before. It was a simple suite with white walls, medium-sized bay windows, and a mirror with a grandmotherly face staring out at her. Elizabeth shrieked.

"Good morning, dear," said the face in the mirror pleasantly.

"D-do all rooms in this place have mirrors…l-like this?" stuttered the frightened girl.

"You're at the Leaky Couldron, dear, not just _an_yMuggle inn, and yes, I suppose I'm pretty standard-"

"Muggle? I've heard that word before-what does it mean?" inquired a now curious Elizabeth.

The mirror laughed, delighted by the girl's childish ignorance. "Muggle simply refers to non-magical people, you know, _normal_ people."

This was news to Elizabeth. If they thought these Muggles were normal, did they think of themselves as peculiar, like she did?

"Erm, I'm going to take a quick shower-you're not in my, say, bathroom mirror as well, are you?"

The grandmotherly wrinkles on the mirror's face lifted and jiggled up and down. "Oh, you're really too much, dear!" the voice guffawed. "Go take your shower. I promise not to look."

Ten minutes later, Elizabeth was towel-drying her hair, impressed by the new, smooth, glossy feeling that ran through her fingers as she combed them through her newly cut hair. The stylist really did a job well done. She loved the person she saw in the mirror now; it felt like the _real_ her at last.

"What day is it, mirror?" she asked absent-mindedly.

"September 1, 1991," was the reply. Elizabeth dropped her towel in shock.

"B-but…That's nearly five _years_ ahead of the actual…"

A sudden realiation dawned over her. The pocket watch she used to escape the accident that day didn't simply make the situation go away; it had brought her to another time! She took the watch out from her robes and stared at it in wonder. So if she wanted to go back in time…she turned the screw and changed the time, and then squeezed her eyes shut, expecting a rush of time to suck her into the familiar void. Nothing. She looked up in confusion. Why hadn't it worked?

"Something wrong, dear?" asked the mirror, who had been observing all the while.

Elizabeth had forgotten that someone was watching her. "Oh, no, nothing's wrong at all."

"Funny thing, dear. I've found out from the other mirrors that all the students of Hogwarts are boarding the Hogwarts Express in an hour. Judging by your uniform, I believe you are one of those students?"

"School starts today?" gasped Elizabeth. "And in an hour?" She grabbed her messenger bag and began stuffing everything she owned in it. "I have to go!"

The sad thing was that she could actually put all her possessions, except her new broomstick, into the leather carrier. The good that come out of it was that in less than a minute, she was packed and out the door. "See you…mirror!"

"Toodeloo, darling!"

Elizabeth ran all the way to King's Cross, the main train station that both Muggles and wizards alike used for transit. She, fortunately, had been in this busy intersection several times in her life during school field trips, so she had a good idea of how to find platform nine…and platform ten. She looked down, eyebrows raised. The antique ticket her mother had given her read platform nine and three quarters. How was she supposed to find such a gate?

"Oy! You there! Watch out!" bellowed two red-headed boys in unison as they ran towards the solid brick wall between platforms nine and ten.

Elizabeth had to leap to one side in order to avoid being run over by luggage carts. "Hey! What are you doing? There's a wa-"

_Schloomp!_ Suddenly the flaming heads somehow got sucked into the inside of the wall.

_Why am I no longer surprised? _wondered the fallen girl.

Someone gripped her arm from behind and helped her up. She turned around.

"I'm _so_ sorry, dear. My boys were _so_ very out of li-" the lady aid inhaled sharply when she gazed upon Elizabeth's face. The girl, confused, asked, "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?"

The plump woman snapped back into reality. "No, no, you didn't. You just look like someone I knew…"

Sirens sounded in Elizabeth's head. She must have meant her mother! This woman knows her mother! "Would that someone be…Evans?"

"Why, yes! I'm Molly Weasley, mother of Ron Weasley, he's a first year this year!" gushed the lady as she took Elizabeth's hand firmly with both of hers. "Are you somehow related to Lily?"

The poor girl was not used to such overfriendliness, and so answered timidly. "I believe she is…my mother." The words sounded odd coming out of her mouth. Elizabeth then realized it was because it was the first time she ever associated herself with her mother out loud.

"A daughter! Good heavens! This is surely a miracle! Lily never mentioned…what…how…" Mrs. Weasley cried as tears flowed like waterfalls down her ruddy cheeks.

Elizabeth kept her mouth shut and let this go on for a while, totally surprised at the amount of emotional display by this stranger, but soon she realized that she had two minutes to board the train.

"Lady…Mrs. Weasley," she said as kindly as possible, "I'm sorry to leave you like this, but I have to catch the train." She gently pried Mrs. Weasley's trembling hands off of her own.

"Of course, of course," Mrs. Weasley blubbered. "Can't have you missing the train now…Wait til' Arthur hears this…"

"Yes! It's my first year too!" smiled the elated girl. "Er, feel better soon, Mrs. Weasley." She ran for the brick wall after awkwardly patting an emotional Mrs. Weasley on the shoulder.

"A twin! Oh, how could it be?"

Elizabeth didn't hear that last part for she was already on the other side of the platform where a giant, black steam engine was pumping and tooting, all reared up and ready to go. She immediately climbed onto the nearest carriage, and not a moment too soon.

"All aboard the Hogwarts Express! Three hours and forty minutes until destination reached!"

Once inside, the atmosphere completely changed. Students left and right were looking for compartments to share with their friends and they were not in the sharing mood either; to Elizabeth, it was absolute anarchy. She pushed and shoved her way through the crowd of faces until she was in one of quieter sections of the train. She slid open the nearest compartment door hoping, praying that there would be room for her there. Three boys and one girl peered up at her.

"Hullo," said the only other girl than Elizabeth there, "Looking for a place to sit?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"You can join us here! C'mon Neville, scoot over. We can just squish."

"Thanks!"

Elizabeth shoved her two items of luggage onto the racks above head, secretly singing her joyful thanks in her head.

The brown, bushy headed girl started again. "What's your name? I'm Hermoine Granger, a first year. I've finished _all_ my textbooks already like a month ago. How about you?"

"Um, I'm Elizabeth, Elizabeth Evans. I'm a first year too, and no, I didn't know we needed to buy books…"

"Don't _have _them? How can you go to Hogwarts then? I mean, there's no _way_ they'd let you start any classes without them! It was in the school letter, remember?"

"I didn't really get that letter either…"

"Wow, really. Then how do you know you're accepted into Hogwarts?"

"I don't, my mother just told me to go."

"Really! I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but it's simply unacceptable!"

"Ignore her," interjected a new voice. The red-headed boy grinned, "I'm Ron Weasley by the way, and this is Harry Potter, _the_ Harry Potter!"

"Oh."

Ron looked dumbfounded. "Oh? That's it? He's the one who….you're Muggle born, aren't you?"

"My mum and dad were a witch and a wizard, if that's what you mean, but they were never there. I grew up in an orphanage."

The black-headed boy named Harry spoke up. "You mean…your parents are dead too?"

Elizabeth sat up straight and glared at the boy. "They're not dead!" she said a little too desperately. "They're just…gone."

No one knew what to say. The ring of a tinkly bell broke silence.

"Snack cart coming 'round! Snacks anyone?" shouted a voice in the hallway

"Blimey Harry! I heard the snacks here are amazing-you should try some!" exclaimed unexpectedly excited Ron.

"Alright, then I'll have some of everything, please," said Harry to the woman selling the goodies. Ron's eyes glowed like golden coins.

""Would you like some, Ron?" laughed Harry, shoving boxes of food of every kind towards the other people. "You too, Elizabeth. "

"Would I?" cried the flame-headed Ron as he grabbed the nearest box, then stopped, embarrassed, "but then…I don't have anything to give _you_…"

"It's all right…"

"No!"

"Ok, fine, what do you have?"

Ron fished through his paper bag. "Ugh, a couple of mushy _sandwiches_. Woman can't get my favorite sandwich right….I like _beans_, not collard greens."

"It's fine, Ron, you don't have to give me anything."

"Riighto.'

Elizabeth, meanwhile, had reached for a box labeled Growing Gum, content with having something long-lasting to chew on.

Neville piped up. "Those are good. They make really big bubbles because it just keeps…growing."

Elizabeth smiled at Neville's shy voice. Finally, someone who was not going to be just another gabbing mouth. "Would you like to show me how it's done?" she said as she passed him the box.

"A-alright."

The five new friends spent the next several hours working their way through the pile of goodies that Harry had bought, eating everything from the typical Chocolate Frogs to the wacky Fling Frizzle Sticks which were rather hard to catch once let out of their container. By the end of the train ride, they all knew that they would be the best of companions and made plants to room together if they got into the same dorm house.

"It's not that simple to get into the same house. I heard you have to cross an obstacle course in an enchanted garden, scale the castle walls, then fight an ogre one-on one to get into the best house, Gryffindor! And depending on how far in the course you got, you'll be sorted into the other houses accordingly. You'll have no problem with getting into Gryffindor, Harry, but bloody hell, I'll probably end up in a wimpy house like Hufflepuff,"lamented Ron.

"But I don't know any magic-"started Harry.

"Don't be stupid, Ron!" said Hermoine, cutting Harry off. "Don't worry, Elizabeth, it's probably not going to be that bad."

Ron's face turned red as his hair. "Who're you calling stupid? My brothers are already in the system and they _told_ me so , so stop being such a rotten know-it-all!"

"I-" Hermoine tried to retort, but at that moment, the train stopped and outside there was the sound of a mad rush for the doors, the chaos only slightly alleviated by older students with shiny badges on their chests that had a large "P" in the middle.

Elizabeth, not wanting to be part of the argument, began gathering the little luggage she had and pulled back the compartment's sliding door. She was pushed and shoved to a meadow where that led to a lake docked with many boats.

"Gather 'em up! Abou' four to a boat!" roared a monstrosity of man. He was at least two and a half meters tall and had a black, bushy bunch of hair that ran down all over his head, sparing only his eyes, nose, and mouth. He reminded Elizabeth of a gigantic, shaggy dog.

"Hagrid!" greeted Harry from behind Elizabeth, obviously acquainted with this giant. "Harry! Been holdin' up there so far?" Hagrid enthusiastically said in return.

"Yeah, not bad."

"All right! Careful you!" Hagrid bellowed as he turned back towards the other students. Neville was tottering dangerously and would have fallen overboard if Hermoine had not gotten ahold of his sleeve at the last second. "Hands _inside_ the whole time! Don' touch anything and don' even think about takin' a dip! Ready? Yip!"

The boats suddenly began rowing themselves as the whole fleet began their journey across the misty lake that led to an enormous castle. Of all the things in this new magical world of Elizabeth's, this grand building awed her the most. She couldn't believe she would be studying magic at such a place as Hogwarts. There were a lot of oohs and ahhs form the other students as well as they gazed, eyes bright and hopeful, at the stony splendor.

The boat ride ended quickly and soon they docked onto the entrance of the school where a rather stern-looking lady was waiting with an impatient look on her face. "Gather around now! Hurry! All of you are first years, yes?" Fifty nervous wrecks nodded in silence. "Good, follow me. "She briefed them on what was going to take place as they walked through the breath-taking courtyards. " I am Professor McGonagall, your future Transfiguration teacher. Now, we'll be doing the Sorting first. Your names will be called in alphabetical order and you will come up to the front one by one and wear the Sorting Hat that will determine your…fate, so to speak."

"Blimey! I'll _kill _Fred and George for lying to me," mumbled Ron.

They had reached the main doors.

"Now I expect impeccable behavior and remember, _remember to wait for you name to be called before you come up._" She glanced at a hyperventilating Neville and with a wave of her wand, opened the impressive doors.

Applause filled the air as the first years made their way down the aisles of the dining tables. Elizabeth and the rest of the procession could barely hear the clapping and the long welcome by the Sorting Hat; the hall was too spectacular, with floating candles that lit up the night sky of the indoor building and lush, brilliantly-colored banners hung on the stars of the sky, symbolizing each House of Hogwarts.

"Settle down! Settle down!" said Professor McGonagall loudly when she had properly situated herself near the hat. "The Sorting will now begin! Abbot, Hannah!"

A shy, but determined looking girl with bouncy curls stepped forward onto the stage and carefully lifted the hat over her head. The folds of the hat created a face, which promptly cried out, "Hufflepuff!"

The next name was called, and the next. Elizabeth was not paying too much attention, still gazing around at the masses of magical objects. She only heard all four of her friends, Harry, Hermoine, Ron, and Neville be sorted into Gryffindor, represented by a majestic lion on a red flag.

Student after student were called up to be sorted, until only Elizabeth was left.

Professor McGonagall was confused. "That was the last name…how can there still be one student left? Young lady!"

Elizabeth spun around, alarmed by the lack of people around her. She looked up to the table where all the professors sat in one row behind a white marble table.

A collective gasp came from that row of people. They had not had the chance to really get a good look at her before, but now they saw. It was like seeing the ghost of their old friend, so haunting that white-headed man, the headmaster Professor Dumbledore, who sat the center of these wizards whispered aloud, "Lily?"

Professor McGonagall clutched at her heart and began to tear up. Elizabeth wondered why people always wept every time they saw the resemblance between her and her mother.

"I'm not Lily!" cried Elizabeth. She spoke in a softer voice, "I'm her daughter."

Harry stood up from behind her. "You're…my _sister_?"

Elizabeth faced him, confused. "Your mother is Lily Evans as well?"

"She _was_ my mother. She's…gone now."

Elizabeth was muted. All those dreams of meeting her mother were sucked into a black hole in Elizabeth's heart and sent into a dark oblivion. She breathed hard and her mind hurt to think about it, but no tears came for the woman who bore her and left her without another word.

A slow muttering began to rise from crowds of students around Harry and Elizabeth, saying, "Sister? In the same year too? Holy cow! That makes them twins..."

Elizabeth's mind cleared for a second. Twin? Harry certainly was not a twin with the time difference, but it was good to know she wasn't alone and with no family in this world after all! She smiled at her new brother. _This is Harry, my brother._ It sounded so beautiful and _right_.

However, her bonding moment with Harry ended when Dumbledore stepped down from his place at the high table and stood in front of Elizabeth, peering into her emerald eyes, as if looking for a sign of the truth. Elizabeth immediately felt a tug in her mind, like someone was trying to physically pull information from her brain. _What's happening?_ She mentally pushed the intruding force with her conscience, erecting a cerebral barrier between her and her attacker. With a blink, the old man ended the battle of the minds, smiling gracefully. After a short pause, he swerved around towards the center of the room again.

"We have a place for you here a Hogwarts, Elizabeth," picking up the Sorting Hat and gesturing for her to wear it.

With a deep breath, Elizabeth approached the strange man and pulled the hat down over her ears. A foreign voice entered her head, once again breaking the sacred protection of her conscience. She resisted, but this time, the force was too overwhelming and her barriers caved in.

_Well, well, what do we have here?_ mused the nasally voice in her head. _A resistor, and a decent one too; I'm impressed, VERY impressed. _Elizabeth frowned in frustration. Why was the voice invading her mind and looking through her life?

_I can hear you think, you know Elizabeth. I'm here to sort you into you into one of these four houses, something that may affect your life forever. I see many memories that you want to hide, secret things you've done that's better kept in the dark. Tough, crafty, very intelligent, and EXTREMELY talented. Ah, but one thing you lack…Heh… Well then, better be…__SLYTHERIN__!_

The table on the very right cheered and stomped, proudly puffing their green and silver ties, robes, and vests.

Elizabeth groaned internally as the hat was taken off her head. She had hoped to be in the same house as her new friends and especially her brother, Harry. Approaching the Slytherin table as instructed, she sat down across from a pale, blonde boy. He extended his arm and open hand the moment her bottom met the bench. Elizabeth took it uneasily and shook it weakly.

"Draco Malfoy, pureblood," he drawled, as if Elizabeth cared, or even knew, what pureblood meant. "My family's been in this house for generations, so naturally I get special…_privileges_."

Elizabeth raised a single eyebrow. This boy was bothersome, but perhaps useful.

"I'm Elizabeth Evans, er, not entirely sure of the state of my blood."

"Evans? If you were Harry lost sister, shouldn't you be Elizabeth Potter then?"

"Oh yeah, I suppose so…"

She was distracted by Dumbledore, who had stood up from his throne of a seat and was making a welcoming speech.

"Well, if I were you," whispered Malfoy loudly, rudely ignoring the headmaster, "I'd not associate myself with that _famous_ Harry Potter."

Insulted, she asked sharply, "Why?"

Malfoy leaned forward against the table, his face inches from the frowning girl's. "He's in the other house now. _Gryffindor_. Everyone knows that we don't like them, and more importantly, _they don't like us_." He leaned back again and half-sneered. "Besides, you two are different. There's a reason why you were put into Slytherin, Potter. If you knew what was good for you, you'd stick with me. I could show you the way to go around here."

She observed the people around her. What did she have in common with these vulgar devils?

Elizabeth's expression was unreadable and said curtly, "Fine, Malfoy."

Malfoy grinned, content with her answer, and muttered, "At least one of the Potters know what they're doing."

Worry dawned on Elizabeth and then she remembered what the Sorting Hat had said- there was something she lacked. That something was what made her less than a Gryffindor. What was it…

Dumbledore ended his speech with a single word and the spell caused food to appear before them in their once empty plates. As spectacular as it was, Elizabeth could not gulp any of it down. She was still pondering what she was missing when the feast was over and the food disappeared as mysteriously as it had appeared. An older boy at her table with the shiny "P" badge yelled for all Slytherins to follow him. Elizabeth was about to leave the dining hall when she felt a hand pull her aside.

"Professor Dumbledore!" she said, surprised.

Harry and the professor stood in front of her. As she exchanged smiles with her brother, the professor said, "I need to talk to you two. Please follow me to my office." 


	7. Confrontation

Dumbledore's office was the most amazing place Elizabeth had ever been to. There were rows and rows of _books_ and miscellaneous magical mysteries. (Elizabeth had a real knack for books.) It was an unstoppable journey through a magnificent jungle, a new, spectacular sight at every turn of the head: a tinny whistle of a metal bird, the laugh of children coming from inside a snowy globe. The adventure ended abruptly when Elizabeth, Harry and Dumbledore came to face a hand full of professors standing behind a large oak desk. The motley few included a still shocked Professor McGonagall, a bony figure in nurse's clothing, and a most curiously of all, a stolid, pale face with dark, shadowy eyes that stared, unrestrained, into Elizabeth's lucid green ones. She broke her gaze away from the look that seemed to be boring a hole into her very soul.

"The reason why I brought you two together here," said Dumbledore in a soft tone, breaking the silence, "was to reunite two siblings. A meeting, I believe, that is long overdue."

Harry and Elizabeth looked at each other for an awkward moment.

"Go on," urged McGonagall.

With a little laugh to relieve their discomfort, they hugged weakly at first, then tightly as the sentiment of mutual gladness was exchanged through the embrace, a feeling of truly being brother and sister at last. Elizabeth looked up and saw the nurse wipe a small tear from corner of her eye. The siblings stepped apart from each other and sat down on the chairs that were situated in front of the oak desk.

"Professor Dumbledore, is there _any_ way that Harry and I could be in the same house?" Elizabeth begged, eyes wide like a doe's.

Dumbledore pressed his lips together. "Unfortunately, that request cannot be fulfilled. I cannot break the school traditions of letting the Sorting Hat decide which house a student belongs to. Furthermore, it has access to the insight of every mind, a line that I wouldn't," he raised an eyebrow, "or couldn't cross. The Sorting Hat has put you into Slytherin for a reason. You most likely have the qualities of a Slytherin or, as the hat believes, you would succeed the most in that house, which, may I add, is one of the most excellent."

"It's a house for snobs and low-lifes," muttered Elizabeth, sinking helplessly into her chair.

"Ah, or so you think. Slytherin has housed the greatest, most powerful wizards and witches. And might I remind you that our esteemed Professor Snape is the head of that very house." Dumbledore motioned towards the raven-haired man who had still not shifted his gaze from Elizabeth's face in his stony silence. _Great. Leave it to me to get the creep for the head of my house, _she thought.

The white-headed professor cleared his throat, then formed a steeple with his fingers, his expression thoughtful. "And now to address the most fascinating topic of all which is how _you_, Elizabeth, came to be. Tell me, what is your story?"

Elizabeth gulped and her palms swiftly grew sweaty for she was uncomfortable with ever opening her innermost being to complete strangers. "I…I don't have a story, really. Just grew up in an orphanage, living your plain old, uneventful life."

Dumbledore gazed at her, as if trying to look within her. "Very well, Elizabeth, if that is al-"

"But there's more, isn't there?" Professor Snape suddenly interrupted Dumbledore mid-sentence. The voice from the once silent man was cold and expressionless, leaving Elizabeth to wonder if he was urgently curious or merely giving her a hard time.

"More? How could there possibly be more?" answered Elizabeth innocently.

Professor Snape stepped out from behind the desk and encircled her chair with deliberate steps as he questioned her. "Really? Then what about the part where you found out about Hogwarts or the magical world in general? Surely, your _loving_ mother must have left you a clue to where it was."

"She did," Elizabeth replied assertively, refusing to be intimidated by his unkind eyes, "and I have a letter that talks all about it, but I refuse to tell you any of it. It's between my mother and me, not really anything to do with _you_."

The black eyes of the professor frowned into slits, focusing a beam of contempt on Elizabeth. She did not break, merely returning the look with a superior glare.

"That's enough, Severus," commanded Dumbledore. "We're here to welcome her, not interrogate her." A single stern look caused Snape to retreat back to his previous position.

The headmaster turned back to Elizabeth. "You will find everything you need in your room for school tomorrow, including your schedule. Now, Harry, Elizabeth, it's time for you two to leave. Have a good rest, tomorrow will be a long day. Severus, would you be so kind to lead Elizabeth to her house? And Minerva, would you do the same for Harry?"

Professor Snape's did not reply, only swept out of the room in a bat-like manner, not even motioning Elizabeth to follow. She hurried after him.

The halls were dark as Snape led his student to the Slytherin's hidden location. Snape's back faced Elizabeth, his robes billowing in the breeze, and his steps were very faint and he seemed to glide along the floor like one of the ghosts. If one stepped back and watched the pair progress, one would think an angry father was leading his daughter to her punishment.

"Impudence is not tolerated in this school, Potter," he suddenly said, his back still towards her. "Secrets are not kept for long either. If I find a _hint _of disobedience," he stopped walking and turned sharply to face her, "you'll find yourself…_inconvenienced_. _Serpent_." A hidden door hissed open.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise; then her chin did the same. Staring directly at the sallow-skinned professor, she asserted, "You don't know me, and you'll never find out anything about me. By the way, it's Evans. Elizabeth Evans," she stepped into the common room, "Goodnight…Snape." The door was shutting behind her. She sneaked a glimpse of the man's reaction, which was pure and utter shock and fury, a reaction, Elizabeth presumed, due to her blatant fearlessness. The common room was empty-everyone were exhausted from the day's events and tucked away under their sheets. After locating her single bag of belongings and broom box, she found an empty bed and fell soundly asleep. She needed the energy; it was going to be an interesting day tomorrow.


	8. The First of Many Days

The First of Many Days

Elizabeth was constantly aware of how completely her life had changed in such a short time. With every passing day, she realized that she never wanted to leave the magical world. How could she ever go back to the Muggle world, now that she knew there was so much more? Today was the first of hopefully many years of classes, and despite her curious optimism, she was incredibly disappointed with her current situation.

Breakfast passed silently for her as Slytherins all around her thought she was too righteous to be put in their house. Malfoy tried to reach out to her, but she only allowed for good mornings to be exchanged. Elizabeth distrusted everything and everyone that adored the green snake on their shirts. She had hoped that she would be allowed to sit at the Gryffindor table just for that morning meal, but apparently that was not allowed. She kept trying to catch Harry's eye, and several times they did, and the desperation to be together was obvious in their body language. Estranged siblings could be kept apart only for so long. However, Harry's joy with his position was obvious as well. When Elizabeth wasn't trying to make eye contact with him, he was well engaged in conversation with Ron and sometimes Hermoine or Neville, and Elizabeth, well, had nobody. She slumped in her seat, unhappily bent over her breakfast whose yellow egg eyes and sausage smile seemed to mock her from below.

Puckering her lips, she decided to take a look at her schedule. It seemed promising, with intriguing class names like Flying, Transfiguration, and Potions. Potions. She liked that name. It was so sinister and sophisticated. She took out her Potions book from her suitcase turned schoolbag and began reading it. Elizabeth was completely captured by the grotesque images and beautiful brews that changed into different forms of innovation every time she flipped a page. She sat reading for an hour, even after all the other students had left for their first class. Being the quick reader she was Elizabeth was finished her textbook with the hour cover to cover. She was totally taken aback when she looked up to see an almost completely empty dining hall albeit several seventh year with free periods. _Of course, no one thought to tell me class was starting! Stupid Slytherins._

Elizabeth launched out of there and into her first class, Transfigurations with Professor McGonagall. She tried prying the doors open as softly as she could, but was impossible for the ancient building to not groan as it did. McGonagall looked up sharply.

"Hello Potter, wonderful for you to join us at such a timely manner." Elizabeth gulped in anxiety under the piercing glare behind the round glasses.

"Sorry, McGonagall…I"

"_Professor _McGonagall."

"Oh, yes, that. Um…" the class giggled while the professor's eyebrows grew ever more slanted, "I was reading a book, you see…for class, and I was so absorbed in it that…I forgot the time?"

The irritated lady tightened her lips at Elizabeth's frivolity, and then remembering who it was, relaxed slightly. "Well, young lady, it'll ten points from Slytherin now, but next time, expect detention."

Elizabeth slid into the bench beside Malfoy and breathed a sigh of relief and smirked. If her misbehaving could bring down the _whole_ house, then she would have a fabulous time in the future shirking the rules.

"Good job, Potter, I didn't know you were such a…vigilant rule breaker," grinned Malfoy.

"You don't a _thing_ about me, Malfoy," replied Elizabeth.

"Well, Ms. Potter, since you're in such a talkative mood, perhaps you could inform us on what the spell for turning a beetle into a ball is."

"Er…I don't actually know…"

"Then please be silent so you do know."

"Sorry."

The rest of the lesson was pure drudgery. Elizabeth didn't know that magic took such _work_. When she was angry, magic seemed to flow out of her very being, but this classroom boredom seemed to stop any hint of it she had. She and Malfoy took turns poking at the poor beetle until its wings were quite damaged and hadn't a hope of flying in the future.

"Ugh, McGonagall is such a frump," complained an exasperated Elizabeth.

"Yeah, the old bat didn't have to take _ten_ points off Slytherin. Clearly, there's favoritism of the Houses. She is the head of the gutless Gryffindors. I ought get father to straighten her out," agreed Malfoy.

Elizabeth looked sideways at the pale, blond face with her eyebrow raised. Since when were _they _such good friends; apparently poking at a bug for an hour and a half really brought people closer together. _Oh no, I'm becoming one of them._ She unhappily accepted the fact that she was going to be in this House for seven years, so having a friend or two wouldn't hurt. Shortly after, she heard McGonagall announce the homework and excused them for lunch.

She smiled genuinely now at Malfoy, "Let's go eat."

They walked side by side into the Great Hall where many more Slytherins greeted Elizabeth than in the morning, seeing that she was now on their side. They sat among the most popular crowd where Malfoy's status was obvious.

"Oi, Potter…" began a sandy-haired first year.

"I'd prefer Evans, thanks."

He raised his eyebrows. "Ohoho…keeping yourself separate from your beloved brother, eh?"

"No, it's simply a matter I have with my father."

"But he's dead-"

"Yes, and he was a low life who broke my mum's heart," she replied coldly.

"Okay…er…just wanted to say that McGonagall was such a hag for what she did, a regular Mudblood if you ask me."

The people around him chuckled loudly.

"What's a Mudblood?" ask Elizabeth, unfamiliar with the term.

Malfoy smirked wickedly, "Oh, nothing. Just a term for people with bad…blood."

"How's that?"

The blond boy rolled his eyes impatiently. "Wow, sometimes you act like such a Muggle. You see…" he paused to make sure he had people's attention, "there's some people who don't have a noble history of wizardry in their family. Their blood's different from those with ancient traces of magic, which _I _have, of course. I guess you could say they're in a…lower _class_."

His small audience murmured in agreement.

"So, anyone's who is not from a wizarding family is below you?"

"Precisely."

Elizabeth felt a small rage build up at his snobbiness inside her when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around in surprise. It was Harry.

"Hello, um, I was just wondering if you wanted to have lunch together outside-"

"Of course!" She stood up enthusiastically, glad to be away from this discussion. "See you later, Malfoy."

Malfoy frowned and leaned into her ear and hissed. "Remember what I told you about the Houses…and _class_."

"I don't need you to dictate who is and isn't my friend," said Elizabeth, furrowing her brows, then turned around to walk away. She was afraid of what she had become; it was like Harry was the key to her regaining her morality. Without him, she was just one of the Slytherins.

Once outside, Elizabeth felt her whole being relax a little. The air was fresh and the sun bright, and best of all, she was _finally_ alone with her long lost brother. They strolled along the outside halls toward the southern structures contently, with no particular direction or purpose.

"So, how have you been holding up in Slytherins?"

"Okay," said Elizabeth tersely. There was not much else to describe her time there. "Actually, it's a bit confusing."

"Confusing? How?"

"I don't know Harry," said Elizabeth helplessly, "I'm really torn between the two Houses. I know I don't officially _belong_ to the Gryffindors, but from what I've heard, Mum used to be in that house, and I feel like…like I should be there or part of me is actually in _that _House, not my current one. Slytherin, to be honest, bloody sucks."

Harry smiled softly when Elizabeth "Mum." No one had ever used that word while talking to him.

"I know how you feel. Dad was in that House, too."

"Thanks for the encouragement, Harry. Makes me feel like I'm a real family outlier." She frowned worriedly. "What if I'm actually a terrible person and that's why the Sorting Hat put me in this absolutely _awful_ House because of that?"

"No! No, don't think that way. You know what? I think the only reason I'm in Gryffindor is because I asked to be. The Hat thought of putting me in Slytherin as well, told me I could have been a…great Slytherin."

Elizabeth's eyes bulged incredulously as she smacked her forehead with her palm. "_Really?_ Because you asked it to?" Harry nodded. "Bloody hell! I'm _such _a dolt sometimes! Why couldn't I have brighten up and ask it to as well?"

Harry didn't answer.

"You know something funny?" she continued with a sigh, "I've always imagined my parents, if I ever found them, to be the perfect couple, so in love with each other. I guess when I found out about everything, the magic, my new world, this school, it feels like it's all been an illusion to hide my disillusionment. No offense, but this family is, in truth, broken, totally broken."

"That's not true, Elizabeth. Don't you see? We're carrying on their legacy just by being here. They died bravely so we could have a better future; there's no brokenness in that."

Elizabeth paused for a moment, then said slowly, "But wait…wasn't Dad an ass? I mean, that's why I prefer being called Evans over Potter, because Dad was the one who left Mum and broke her heart."

A look of confusion and anger came upon Harry's face. "_What?_ Where did you hear that blasphemy?"

"Mum. She wrote me a letter explaining everything."

"But…but Hagrid said that Dad and Mum died together valiantly, fighting some Dark Lord named Voldemort!" exclaimed Harry heatedly.

Some of the third-year students that walked past them began whispering fervently at the sound of the Dark Lord's name.

"Oh, yeah," whispered Harry, "You're not supposed say his name out loud."

"Why?" Elizabeth asked mystified, her eyes wide in anticipation.

"Because…well, he extremely evil and killed a lot of people? I'm not too sure."

Elizabeth chuckled loudly, eyes crinkling at the sides. "So what does that have to do with not saying his name? That's the worst reason I've ever heard in my _life_!"

"Well, it's true! Anyways, we're almost at Hagrid's cabin anyways. Maybe he can clear things up for us."

"Oh, is that where we're going?"

But Elizabeth needn't even say that because before them was a great, round wooden cabin with the sound of a fairly large and aggressive dog barking furiously at the two of them wafting through the window.

"Pleasant," she gulped.

"He's not that bad," grinned Harry. He pounded on the door.

"Oi! Who's thar?" a gruffy voiced bellowed.

"It's Harry and Elizabeth," shouted Harry, nearly as loudly, "come to visit!"

The door swung open, and the same monstrous man from the boat docks stood smiling, rather scarily from Elizabeth's viewpoint, at the doorway.

"Well, wat'cher waitin' for? Come in!" He waddled away where he had a plate of massive scones, each one the length and width of his gigantic fist. "Hadn't had me some visitors in a while. Here! Have some scones. Made 'em meself!"

Elizabeth and Harry each took one uneasily, wondering how they were supposed to finish a snack probably the size of their stomachs on top of their lunches.

"So," Hagrid asked, "Any particular reason for visiting ol' Hagrid, or did you just want sum' fancy-like company?" He laughed at his own little joke.

"Well," Harry started, "we were just visiting at first, but then we came to something we didn't quite understand. You said my parents died together fighting for their lives against some Dark Lord Voldemort-"

Hagrid cleared his throat loudly and his big eyes grew wide in shock. "Now don't be sayin' things like that or else others migh' be askin' what I've been teaching yo-"

"Alright, Dark Lord. You said they died fighting for me, but Elizabeth said our dad was a bloody joke of a husband, and left our mum behind."

The giant raised one bushy eyebrow. "Did she say tha' now? Where'd you get tha' finding?"

"In my letter," asserted Elizabeth, "from Mum. It says that Dad was a low-down dark magic user, and she was a fool for trusting him in the first place."

"Now tha's a tad bit stretchied! James, your Dad, was as noble a wizard as yer'll ever find! He'd do _nothin'_ with those dark magics!"

"Then did their relationship ever have any big breaks?"

"Er, not that I've known of, no."

Elizabeth was stumped. The letter was definitely not a fraud; everything else it had said was true. Suddenly, a crazy idea came into her mind.

"What if…what if Harry and I didn't…share dads?" she speculated.

"Oi, now that's an even bigger accusation! Are ye sayin' she cheated on James? Lily was a saint if I ever'd seen one."

"No, no, I'm not saying that. She's my mother you know…" She continued pondering.

"Forget it, maybe she was just going through a rough patch with Dad. So, how about this Dark Lord? I want to hear the whole story!" exclaimed Elizabeth, trying to change the subject. The rest of the time, Hagrid told them the tale of the wicked Lord Voldemort. Although she was still not convinced her explanation of her parents, but inside she knew this was a mystery she would have to figure out on her own.


	9. Revelations

**Realization**

It was Friday (no stupid song references intended), and Elizabeth was looking at her schedule as she ate breakfast. There were Double Potions and Flying, both subjects that Elizabeth was truly excited for. From what she heard, both classes were with Gryffindor, so if today wasn't the best day of her week so far, she didn't know when it would be.

It was a little disturbing that Potions would take place in the Dungeons of the castle, but Elizabeth was ready, she had already gone through the textbook twice within the first week of school.

"You ready for Potions?" asked Malfoy, whom Elizabeth had hardly forgiven, but decided to go along with anyways for now.

"Yes, let's go," answered Elizabeth, hardly containing the enthusiasm in her voice.

They descended the stony steps of the dungeon along with Malfoy's two goons, Crabbe and Goyle. Elizabeth had quickly developed a disdain for their constant company due to their extreme stupidity. The atmosphere had a cold iciness to it, but to Elizabeth, it was a clear breath of fresh air compared to the stuffiness of the upper rooms. It was finally an environment where she could actually study and learn. Oh, she couldn't wait to get to know her Potions teacher. Elizabeth hoped it was another teacher like Professor Flitwick; he was absolutely adorable. However, what lay in front of her wasn't so promising. The end of the chilly, dark tunnel was a somber-looking door with the same texture and color of her black cauldron.

"Bit cold isn't it?" shivered Malfoy as he rubbed his sleeved arms. Elizabeth ignored his whining and with great effort, pushed open the metal door. What she saw next was extremely disheartening. Standing with an indifferent look on his face in the center front of the gravelly vault of a room was Professor Snape, head of the Slytherin house. Elizabeth grumbled internally. _This_ was the teacher of her favorite subject?

Yet his face showed no sign that he even recalled threatening her several nights before. It was as if he was physically trying to not to look at her directly; his gaze always not quite reaching her face. With this opportunity, she decided to observe him, something she had not really gotten to do due to his threatening glare on the first night at Hogwarts.

His hair hung in greasy, ebony locks around a peaky, pointed face. A dark obscurity seemed to be suspended around his face, a trait that was not unlike Elizabeth's own. Although she hated this man, she couldn't help being slightly attracted to him for being the way he was…_if he only smiled a little_… When he bent forward, his hair fell forward in a way that all she could see was his angled protrusion of a nose. _Wait_. These lines sounded so familiar to Elizabeth she could hardly breathe. Her mind was rushing, her brain searching for what these significant descriptions meant. _No. Oh, GOD no._ _The letter! The LETTER! But how could this be possible?_

No matter how she thought about it, she couldn't think of why her mother could ever… _be_ with this filth of a man. The already dim lights seemed to dim a little more as Elizabeth felt herself slowly melting into the ground, about to faint from disbelief.

"All right there, Evans?" exclaimed Malfoy as he grabbed her arm to keep her from falling.

She didn't see him; her eyes were fixed on Snape. _But_ _I really can't be sure yet._ The black head turned towards her, frowning deeply at her shocked face. As he was about to walk towards her, she held out her hands and stressed, "I'm fine, I'm fine." He raised a brow and gazed at her for a second, then simply swept around and returned to his previous work.

"What was that all about?" asked a confused Malfoy, suddenly concerned.

"It…it was nothing," said Elizabeth shakily, "Thanks, though."

"You look like you saw a Dementor or something! Really, Eliza…Evans," said Malfoy, quickly changing his words.

Elizabeth looked at him oddly, unsure of what his quick recovery of words was implying. She then realized that perhaps he wasn't the worst of people after all. Just perhaps. She half-smiled. "You can call me Liz."

Malfoy's mouth formed into a straight line as he reddened slightly. "And…Drake. I mean, you can refer to me Drake…"

He was interrupted by Snape who had started class with the simple words, "Class shall begin _now_." The students need not much else to get their attention; Snape's presence was enough. He went down a list of names as he did roll call, pausing only marginally at Elizabeth's name so that only she noticed the delicate difference. At Harry's however…

"Ah, yes," he said softly-dangerously, "Harry Potter, our new—_celebrity_."

Elizabeth heard Malfoy and his senseless friends snort with laughter to which she scowled deeply.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Snape began in barely more than a whisper, "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death— _if_ you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Although she was still dazed from her life-changing realization, Elizabeth found her "father's" speech really to be a bunch of bullock and she smirked in amusement. Snape looked up abruptly and saw.

"Something funny, Potter?" he said in the same soft undertone.

Harry thought the professor was referring to him and quickly answered. "No, sir."

Snape swept his head towards Elizabeth's supposed twin with an irked expression. "I wasn't referring to _you_."

"Never mind," said Snape, cool as ever. Now turned towards Harry, he suddenly asked, "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry struggled with his speech, "I…I don't—"

"Draught of Living Death, a powerful sleeping potion," answered Elizabeth promptly.

"Potter, I wasn't _referring_ to you," hissed the professor through gritted teeth. If he was surprised by her knowledge, he didn't show it.

"Oh really, Snape? I'm sorry, I didn't realise," she said with the most bothersome grin she could muster.

The pale face turned purple and livid. "First of all," he said in a much louder tone than before, "it's Professor Snape. Secondly, if you think that this…_cheek_ will go unpunished just because you are _so_…well you are sorely mistaken_. _Detention,_ Evans_! And a point from Gryffindor for Potter's…stupidity. Tut, tut, clearly fame isn't everything." He exhaled deeply through his thin nostrils to calm himself.

Harry stared in shock and worry at Elizabeth. She winked at him, signaling to him that it was all right. She was not unfamiliar with getting in trouble.

"_Now_," declared Snape firmly and almost forcefully, "We will start with a simple potion for ridding of boils. The instructions and ingredients are on the board and if things go right, which I highly doubt with a class like _this_, the cure should be ready _within_ the hour. Begin!"

As they were paired off, the other students virtually stumbled to get their materials ready, but Elizabeth did things slowly and deliberately, causing the already displeased teacher's scowl to deepen. What's more, her potion seemed to be brewing more perfectly than any of the others. He could find no mistakes in the way she stewed her horned toads or crushed her snake fangs, and she was the only other student other than Malfoy, her partner, whom he had not said a word of criticism to.

However, it seemed that he took out all his bottled frustrations on Neville. The poor boy could hardly tell right from left in Snape's constant presence. He was so unsure of himself that he accidentally melted Seamus' cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone tiles and burning holes in people's shoes. The students shrieked and rushed to stand on their stools in order to avoid the boil-producing substance. Neville managed to splash the concoction all over himself, and immediately crimson red boils started forming and exploding violently all over his exposed skin.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spillage with a wordless wave of his wand, "Take him to the hospital wing!" Seamus was almost too glad to leave the classroom and dragged the whimpering Neville out the door.

"You—Potter—why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Harry was fuming and opened his mouth to protest, but Ron roughly tugged at his robe, signaling for him to shut it. Harry literally bit his tongue as Snape fluttered around in his black robes, inspecting the student's mixtures and deducting any points he saw possible. Only at Malfoy and Elizabeth's cauldron did he stay silent and simply nod. He bit his lip at Elizabeth's satisfied smile until it had turned very white, but forced himself to ignore her and move on to the next group.

"_How_ could you have done that, Liz?" shouted an outraged Malfoy once outside of the dungeons, "You nearly jeopardized all our House points, and now you've gone and gotten yourself a detention. I hope you're happy!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "What are you, my mother? Snape clearly favored you and your… our House, so our House points were never in any danger. As for the detention, I'll gladly deal with it _on my own_."

"It's because of the dreaded Potter, isn't it? You wanted to protect him from Professor Snape's fury or something. You knew he'd be nasty to your beloved brother so you took the center stage and distracted him."

"And so what if I did? Harry deserves none of that spite. He didn't do a bloody thing, but that horrid…man just keeps picking on him. Should I not stand up for such injustice?"

"Injustice? Snape merely favors _us_. He's like that with everyone else. Potter is not such a special little boy that he should get the _celebrity_ treatment everywhere he goes."

Elizabeth paused in their rage-filled walk, staring directly at Malfoy. "Are you jealous of him, Drake?"

Malfoy's brows furrowed. "No, why would I want to be like that Weasel-loving weakling? He's got nothing on me."

"Weasel-loving?" frowned Elizabeth.

Malfoy smirked proudly. "Like my new name for Harry's red-headed sidekick? Ron Weasley's family resembles weasels if nothing else."

"You…I've had it with you, Malfoy! To think _we_ were on first names terms too!"

She stomped down the hall to the hostpital wing to visit Neville, the only place she could think of going to without returning to the common room.

Elizabeth had never really visited the hospital wing although she had passed it several times before. She entered quietly, following the explicit instructions on the sign on the door. Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, sat behind a cherry colored desk in front of rows of hospital beds where she was writing a letter and muttering to herself at the same time.

"Hullo?"

Madam Pomfrey looked up sharply then turned very white upon seeing who it was. Her hand went to her chest as she uttered, "Y-yes? How can I help you?"

"I'm here to visit Neville," said Elizabeth and added after seeing the nurse's face which she took as confusion, "the boy with the bad case of boils?"

"Oh, he…left moments ago," the nurse gasped, hardly keeping out the choke in her voice.

Elizabeth suddenly became very concerned for Madam Pomfrey, "Is everything all right?"

Pomfrey could hold it in no longer. She lost all control and began sobbing violently. "I'm so sorry, so very sorry," she repeated over and over again.

"Sorry for what?" asked Elizabeth kindly, putting her arm around Pomfrey's shoulder.

"It was _me_. I let your mother make those terrible decisions. I should have made you my own or at least stop her from sending you to that Muggle-filled prison. Ohhh, what was I thinking? D-did your mother ever mention me in her letter?"

Elizabeth was curious, _Does she know?_

"No, only mentioned my dad, James—"

The lady's eyes grew wide. "But… it isn't Ja—"

"I know," whispered Elizabeth urgently, "I was just testing you. Could we…," she looked around to make sure no one was around, "talk about this somewhere else?"

Pomfrey rapidly rose from her seat and ushered Elizabeth into a side room, "In my office…quickly…"

"It's Snape, isn't it?" dreaded Elizabeth immediately after settling down comfortably in a cushioned chair.

"Yes,"Pomfrey nodded, wiping a tear away, "I was actually the person who delivered you. I remember, _so well_, the first time I saw your little black head. It was so peaceful, so perfect." She smiled nostalgically.

Elizabeth sighed, disheartened. There was no way to deny her ghastly origins any longer.

"Elizabeth? I want to ask you something."

"Uhuh?"

"How is it possible that you are here at this time, at your age? I remember quite clearly that you should be at least fifteen or sixteen, but you look…so young."

"I'm not quite sure myself, Madam—"

"Just Poppy will do," interjected Pomfrey, placing her hand on Elizabeth's arm, "It's what your mother used to call me."

Elizabeth beamed. She loved being associated with her mother. "Well, _Poppy, _as I was saying, I'm not really sure. My mother gave me this timepiece here and instructed me to use it, and when I turned it, I somehow warped into this time."

Pomfrey clucked her tongue, "Lily was always a bright one. I'm not surprised she figured out how to use the spell for changing objects into Time Turners." All of a sudden, Pomfrey was not crying anymore and was quite composed. "Well, I was responsible for letting Lily go through having you and leaving you, so I am responsible for your well-being now. If there's anything you need, anything at all, my door is always open, but there are sick students I need to tend to, so off you go." Elizabeth found herself being steered out the hospital wing as quickly as she was ushered into it.

"I didn't even ask what—"

But Pomfrey had already walked away towards the patients in the beds, leaving Elizabeth's query half-finished and the girl herself alone in the empty hallway.

She turned around to see the end of a black robe swish out of sight behind a corner.


	10. Flying Lessons

**a/n: Sorry for the giant wait.. but I hope you enjoy!**

The sharp screech of Madam Hooch's whistle turned all heads as the students were messing around with their school-assigned brooms. Only Elizabeth held the special ride that Mr. Moble had sold to her.

Pansy Parkinson, a rather gruesome looking Slytherin girl who had been jealous of all the attention Elizabeth had been getting since day one, decided to mention this to Madam Hooch right away.

"Madam Hooch," whined Pansy, "Evans has a personal broomstick when the school rules explicitly forbid it."

Elizabeth immediately defended herself. "I didn't know that! I never received that letter!"

Madam Hooch walked over to Elizabeth, looked her over, and smiled, "It's quite alright, Potter-"

"I prefer to be called Evans, Madam."

"Fine, Evans, then. Special orders from Dumbledore himself to let you keep that broomstick. Don't have anywhere else to place it, do you poor dear?" Elizabeth shook her head as sadly as she could. Pansy, on the other hand, was sulking. "May I see that broom?"

"This is _the_ plainest broomstick I've ever seen!" Hooch exclaimed as she expertly weighed the stick in her hands. "But I'll admit it's much lighter than the deadweights we have here…blasted school budgets. Say, where did you buy this odd little thing?"

"I got it from a friend of mine who makes them," replied Elizabeth readily.

"This friend of yours have a name?"

"Yes, I believe he goes by Moble."

"Ah," gasped Hooch softly. "No wonder. His art is not in the furnishings and delicate waxing or wood, but making the fastest brooms wizards has ever seen. This one is _really_ plain, so it must be something amazing."

Elizabeth grinned silently and shrugged. What could she say? Mr. Moble was really the best.

"Well, students," Hooch said loudly, now addressing the rest, "today we will be going the basics of flying. Now don't go launching off the ground just yet because we're beginning with simply picking up your brooms. Put your hand over it and say up!"

Many broomsticks wobbled on the ground as the students tried this first instruction, but didn't quite leave the floor. Only Elizabeth's, Harry's, and Malfoy's shot straight into their hands at the first try.

"Excellent, Potters!" exclaimed Madam Hooch. "Perhaps talent does run in families."

Feeling ignored, Malfoy quickly frowned and exclaimed, "But I did it too!"

"Oh, yes, Malfoy, I'm sorry. Nice job!"

Elizabeth couldn't help but smirk behind her hand like with the Gryffindors. For once, the snob got what he deserved.

The students soon mastered the first task and Hooch moved on to the next step.

"We will begin actual flying training now. DON'T lift off quite yet!" She looked sharply at Malfoy whose right leg was ready to kick off the ground. "Slowly now, don't get onto your brooms, but lift your legs like I am, and kick! That's right! Now practice this motion several times."

Neville hadn't heard the instructions in full and was on his broom as he practised the motion. "WOOOAHHH!" He launched into the air with great speed, but he was unsteady and not long after, fell from his wobbling broomstick. _Crunch!_ Neville moaned in pain as he writhed on the ground where he landed.

"Foolish boy!" shouted Madam Hooch, "I said _practice the motion off the broom_." She scooped a whimpering Neville up and made him to lean on her with one arm. With a threatening glare, she instructed the class, "Now that I have to take Longbottom here to the hospital wing, I expect you all to be practicing! Stay ON THE GROUND. Any students I see flying about on broomsticks is are liable for SUSPENSION!" With a frustrated grunt, she and the wounded Neville staggered down toward the hospital wing, looking like quite the awkward duo.

"Hey, Potter," said Malfoy once the teacher was out of sight, "Remember this?" He mockingly held a funny little ball between his forefinger and thumb.

"Hey! That's Neville's!" yelled Harry, "Give it back here!" He reached to grab it out of Malfoy's hand, but Malfoy was too quick for him.

"Not a chance, Pottyface," Malfoy leered, "come and get it…if you dare!" He jumped onto his broom and lifted off, flying quickly towards the far towers.

Harry immediately grabbed for his broom, but Hermoine stopped him.

"Didn't you hear Madam Hooch? If you do this, you're liable for suspension, or worse, expellment!"

"I don't care! Malfoy shouldn't always get away with these things!"

"Well, there's other ways of dealing with it. We can tell Madam Hooch when she gets back!"

"And then what? Neville's Remembrall will be halfway across the forest in some tree, and surely he'll never remember anything anymore. Let go of me!" He tugged his arm away from Hermoine's grip only to have Elizabeth grab his other arm.

"Now what? I can hardly see him now."

Elizabeth pushed her broomstick towards him. "Take this, it's faster."

"Oh, thanks." Harry looked at her and grinned before hurling himself towards Malfoy.

She watched him shoot off into sky, a sort of romantically heroic scene playing in her mind where superheroes fly off into the sunset. "He's not bad, you know," she said to Hermoine, "Flying's in his blood. His dad was in the Quidditch league; I saw the name on a trophy cup."

Hermoine frowned. "Why do you refer to Harry's father as 'his father'? Isn't he your father too?" she asked, forgetting about Harry altogether.

Elizabeth nearly hit herself for being so obvious. Her back tensed faintly. _Should I tell her?_ "Oh, I-I'm not so sure anymore."

"How do you mean? Oh sorry, um, should I be asking?"

Elizabeth acknowledged Hermoine's considerateness. "It's okay. Um, no, I recently found out that we might…have different dads. Don't tell Harry that, though. He won't accept that our mum was_…with_ another man."

"Wow, your family is pretty complicated isn't it?"

Elizabeth snorted. "Ha! Yes, it is! I wish someone would understand. However, Harry is the one the amazing story, world-wide fame; mine is sort of just sad and irrelevant. I mean, even after all this, the magic and the miracles, what I'm searching for all comes down to family and a place to belong, and, as you know, the family part is not going along quite so well."

"Why? Who's this other dad?"

"I'd rather not say. It would ruin _everything_….it's already ruined everything."

Hermoine was silent for a while, absorbing what she had just heard. "Looks like you're just looking for someone to talk to. I wouldn't mind being that person, but I feel like it's not my place to solve your problems. I know what you mean about finding a place to belong; I've always just been the bucktoothed...nerd."

Elizabeth laughed. "I can sort of see that!"

"Hey!"

"I'm kidding, but I know what you mean. I'll have to face my problems soon enough. Seeing as this class is pretty much in shambles, I'll be heading off now."

"But what about Madam Hooch…"

"I don't give two hoots about what any teacher thinks, but I hardly think she'll notice I'm even gone."

"But…"

"Give it a rest. I'm not even in your house." Elizabeth walked off without another word.


	11. Weaknesses Revealed

Weaknesses Revealed

Elizabeth found herself wandering into a forest which she vaguely remembered might be forbidden when she noticed a black shadow gliding past the trees. She stopped walking and stood flush against the nearest tree in fear of being found out. Then, she heard voices not far away.

"It is only in your mind, Severus," chuckled a familiar soft- sounding voice.

"No, Albus, you weren't there! You didn't see the…animosity in her eyes. She clearly despises me, and this time at least, it isn't my fault."

There was silence for a few seconds as Elizabeth slowly peeked out from behind the tree. Dumbledore was stroking his beard and looking at owner of the other voice, Professor Snape, with curiosity.

"Really, Severus, I have never seen you in such a state. Why should it matter to you if she does? You seem to dislike Harry well enough."

"I…she…" muttered Snape, at loss for words.

"Calm yourself, Severus. I already know why."

"Y-you know?"

Dumbledore nodded knowingly. " You always, start mumbling when _she_ is mentioned.

She looks uncannily like her mother doesn't she? Like Lily." He cracked a warm, eye-crinkling smile while looking up at the sky, "I believe that she is smiling down from that place above at Elizabeth right now. Elizabeth has come so far, and from such a tragic past. There's more to her than simple hatred for you, Severus, quite like yourself. It is most curious that she is from an orphanage, too, don't you think, and I heard from the other professors that she is cunning and clever, but quietly so. Yes, it is most curious that she came to us this way."

Snape frowned deeply. "Are you suggesting that she might turn out to be like..."

"No, not at all, Severus! That would be a terrible conclusion to make. I merely stated some similarities between the two. There's nothing to suggest that she has the heart for such evil. No one should know better than you that the heart is really what matters when choosing where we stand."

Snape grimaced. "There's no need to bring her up again. She's gone now." With the flap of his cloak, the black-haired professor walked away.

"Elizabeth, you may come out from your hiding place now."

She felt her spine straighten immediately as she heard him calling her. _Blast it, how did he know?_

"H-hello. Nice weather for a stroll isn't it?" said Elizabeth, trying to escape the obvious punishment that was about to proceed.

"Indeed it is, but that's not what you were doing behind that tree, was it?"

"No, I guess not."

There was a silence as Dumbledore walked around the forest clearing, seeming to enjoy the soft chirping of baby birds in a nearby tree.

"Tell me, what was it like, your days in the orphanage?"

Elizabeth was surprised at the odd question, and couldn't stop herself from answering honestly. "It…it was terrible at first…but then I realized I was different, I had magic, and so when the other children picked on me, I could…stop them with my mind. They learned to fear me."

"Oh? Fear you? And did that make things better?"

"No, that's why I ran away, only to come to this." She was silent for some time, contemplating what she just said, and then she remembered. "What did you mean when you said it was most curious I came to you this way? Was I like someone you knew?"

The professor stopped strolling and looked directly at her, "There is a time and place for everything, Elizabeth, and it's not yet time to reveal this fact. Run along now, I dare say Madam Hooch will be wondering where you are."

"One last question," said Elizabeth quickly.

"Yes?"

"So Snape…"

"You will call him _Professor_ Snape…"

"Professor Snape then, he actually cared about my mother?"

Dumbledore sighed deeply and pushed his glasses higher up on his nose, "I suppose there's no chance in denying since you heard it with your own ears, although a long time ago, I _did_ promise not to reveal this side of him. Yes, at one point, Professor Snape and your mother were…very good friends."

"Just good-"

"-_Just _good friends. It's a pity it did not develop into something more."  
"Yes, pity."

It has been several weeks and Elizabeth began seeing Severus with new eyes. She had yet to find out why anyone could love such a person, but at least his classes were tolerable since he favored her Potions partner, Malfoy, for some reason. He was now on the border of unpleasantness and simple distaste for her, and Elizabeth was unsure if she was ready to move on to any sort of like for this man. _What happened to my parents then, that my mother had to give me up and that my own father does not even recognize my existence? _

Elizabeth looked toward the window while doing her Potions homework, a whole parchment on the uses of toad turd in curing skin diseases. The skies were turning dark and she was bored out of her mind. This wasn't what she enjoyed about Potions at all. On top of that, she was dreading having detention with Professor Snape in ten minutes, something that she had been putting off until he told her explicitly after class to come to his office tonight.

Descending the dark staircase, she entered through the black doors into the dungeons where Snape stood ready with a pile of snail-looking creatures in a cauldron to his right.

"You're a minute late, Evans. I believe that translates into ten extra minutes in detention."

"Sorry, I got…lost on the way down."

"Bah! Excuses! You will be pulling these acidian snails out of their shells _by hand_. I would wear these gloves if I were you, or your hands won't last the night before they're… burnt off."

Two gloves were shoved harshly into her hands. "Begin."

Snape walked to the back of the classroom and sat reading parchments of paper. Elizabeth heaved a sigh and started plucking the greenish snails out of their shells. After a few boring minutes, she realized that this was an opportune time to uncover some of the mystery behind her parents' affair. The man with all the answers sat vulnerable in front of her. His mind was hers to be played with since she had the upper hand of knowledge. She cleared her throat loudly, trying to get Snape's attention.

"What, Evans?"

"Did you ever know my mother, Lily, professor?" she asked innocently.

He looked up, glaring at Elizabeth. "This is _detention_, not time to ask foolish questions."

"It's not a foolish question! I just want to know more about her is all."

She tried not to grin as she asked, "I only asked because I heard you were good friends once, before she liked Harry's- I mean-_my_ father."

Snape's eyes narrowed as he hissed, "_Who_ told you we were good friends?"

"Oh, you know the gossip that you hear in school. In fact, I've heard you were _more_ than good friends, if you know what I mean." Any minute now, she was going burst out laughing or spill the truth if she didn't control herself.

In a blink of an eye, Snape was next to her, holding firmly onto the collar of her shirt, white rage written all over his face and his sharp quill poised menacingly at her neck. Elizabeth could smell his toxic breath that was exhaled from the mouth which was hardly two inches from her own. She tried pulling away, but his grip was too strong. She became frightened; it was no longer fun and games with Snape, but to show fear now would mean giving up the chance to learn the mystery of her origins.

Her hand found its way to her wand in her side pocket, and she clenched on it tightly. Her mind was rushing with all the spells that she read in her textbooks, but she suspected Snape was more than a match for her limited magic.

"Trying to _fight_ me, Evans?_Expelliarmus_!"

Immediately, her wand flew into Snape's open hand. He frowned.

"This is Lily's wand."

"Yeah, so?" said Elizabeth as she struggled against the constraints of Snape's hands, her eyes focused on the pointy end of the quill still at her neck.

"It…" He couldn't finish his sentence.

Elizabeth finally realized it. The reason why he was so riled up by her knowledge of his past affairs. He still loved Lily. His eyes had changed from steely to somber the moment he Lily's name escaped his lips, and his whole body seemed to lose a little of its strength.

"You really cared for her didn't you?" whispered Elizabeth gently. Her eyes lingered on his, searching desperately for any sign of human kindness or mercy.

"No one must know," he gasped, unraveling more by the second. "It would…it would ruin _everything_."

Elizabeth immediately found a way to use this piece of knowledge to her advantage.

"Then let me go, "she gasped.

"I couldn't possibly now, could I?"

"Yes, you _can_. For Lily's sake, you can let me go."

"DON'T SAY HER NAME! This secret is of world importance! I could…I could make you forget all your memories, I could force you to drink a potion that would kill you if you even _think_ about revealing my secret, or…_or_ you could simply have a_ tragic_ accident disappear from the face of the Earth _forever_."

Elizabeth was acting on a whim, her fear leading her forward. She looked into his black eyes and took his white, worn hand gently as she said, "_Could_ you kill me?"

She was too close, too intimate, and Snape just couldn't keep his composure. He dropped everything and turned away from her, "Get…OUT!"

Elizabeth got up from where she fell and dashed out the door, but not before saying, "I promise-I won't tell anyone."

And with the glint of the chained timepiece that she hung on her side, she left the room, leaving Snape to wonder if Elizabeth wasn't possibly Lily reborn.


	12. Too Late

So this is a quick two chapters to explain some events...14 will be quite satifying, trusy me.

Severus was madly scribbling in his Potions textbook as he sat underneath the shade of a tree.

"Two-no, three-drops of gargoyle venom-" he muttered to himself.

He only looked up as he heard laughter approaching; it was the sound of a happy couple, and there was nothing Severus hated more than having to endure listening to the trilling of love.

He slammed his book shut and was about to get up and leave when he saw who it was.

"Oh, hello, Snivellus", sneered James as he pulled an uncomfortable-looking Lily closer to himself. "Didn't know you were greasing up another book over here. Guess Lily and I will just have to find another spot to_ play_ in."

Lily released herself from James' tight hug and tucked a loose hair behind her ear.

"Sorry, we'll be leaving then," she muttered, not meeting Severus' eyes.

"Wait, Lily, _please_. Can I just talk to you?"

James put himself between Severus and Lily and said confidently, "For the thousandth time, she doesn't _want _to talk to you, okay? Come on, Lily, we're leaving." He put his hand on her back to steer her back to the castle, but she lay a firm hand on his chest, not letting him lead her away just yet.

"Fine. Then let's talk. James, could you leave us for a moment?"

James looked baffled, "But we agreed-"

"-It's just a talk, James. Don't worry."

James walked away, only turning around to give Snape one last threatening glare.

"Sev," said Lily in a softer voice once James had distanced himself from them, "I don't want to be enemies with you either, but the way you act, the friends you choose, you give me no choice."

"And James and the way _he_ acts? _He's_ much better than me?"

"_Stop _comparing yourself to James. This has nothing to do with him."

"It doesn't? He's practically replaced me now."

Lily exhaled loudly. "I don't love him, Sev. He's not the same as you…were. But really, he's a good person, except around you of course."

"I'm still here Lily! The same old Sev! Nothing that has happened changed how I feel about you."

Lily, at last, half-smiled, sat down next to Snape and said with a gleam in her eye, "Okay then, I'll give you a chance, an ultimatum if you will. _I_ will leave James and anything I have to do with his goons if-"

Severus leaned forward greedily, face flushing with determination.

"-if you leave _your_ friends, and anything you have to do with their Dark magic and silly plans. It would just be you and me, like old times!"  
His eager face dropped immediately.  
"Lily-" Severus said nervously, "I don't know how to say this. I would have not let them do it if I thought I still had a chance with you, but I _can't_ leave them."  
Lily frowned and slowly backed away from him, not believing what she was hearing. "What do you mean?"

He peeled back his long, black sleeve. "I mean this."


	13. Mystery in Hogwarts

It was late when she left Snape's office that night, and she was still feeling quite dazed when she heard running and yelling coming towards her.

"Elizabeth! Run!"

It was Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermoine, all running for their lives, maddening fear in their wide eyes.

"What's going on?"

"Later! Just _run_!"

She was swept away in a whirlwind of footsteps. They ascended the moving staircase two at a time, and Elizabeth barely had time to catch her breath before she realized that they were on the third floor, the forbidden floor.

"We're not supposed to _be_ here!" she whispered frantically, looking around for whatever they were supposed to be running from.

"When'd _you_ become such a Hermoine?" questioned Ron.

"Hey!"

They reached a door at the end of the tunnel, but it was locked and there was nowhere else to turn to. Fast footsteps were approaching from below, and another soul was there to see their attempted escape-Peeves.

"Naughty children, running from our hardworking caretaker, Filchie?"

"Don't give us away Peeves-_please_," begged Harry.

"Peeves would, but he's got to do what he should. HEHEHEHEHAHAA! STUDENTS IN THE CHARMS CORRIDER, OUT OF BED AND IN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!" The ghost cackled impishly.

"What do we _do_?" squeaked Ron, pulling as hard as he could on the lock.

"Oh, step aside, would you?" Hermoine shoved her way to the door and pointed her wand at the lock. _"Alohomora!_"

The lock immediately snapped open magically.

"Come on!"

They rushed into the open door and slammed it shut behind them and crouched in the dimly lit room in fear and anticipation.

"Where'd they go, Peeves?" yelled a rough voice outside the door.

"Uh, oh", leered the grinning ghost, "You shan't know without saying the special word!"

"Tell me, Peeves! Or I'll have you exterminated!"

"That's the not the special word! You shan't know! AHAHAHAHA!" They heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch's angry footsteps after him.

"Are they gone?" Elizabeth whispered.

"Yes, I think so, but something else is here," whimpered Neville.

Before them stood an enormous, three-headed dog which seemed to have been awakened by their presence. It growled menancingly, drool barely clinging to the side of its mouth.

Everyone whipped out their wands for protection, but Elizabeth had another idea.

"No, don't hurt it! Put your wands down."

"What? Are you mental?" asked Ron, boggled.

"Trust me. I've got this."

She stepped forward to face the giant dog which seemed to be growing more agitated by the second. She stared straight into its eyes and focused, reaching out with an invisible connection.

_Calm down, we are friends, _she crooned to it with her mind. She hummed what she thought to be a soothing tune and soon the the monster collapsed back to sleep. Elizabeth turned back towards Harry.

"I think we should go now," she whispered.

"Blimey, how did you do that?" exclaimed Ron quietly once they entered the empty Gryffindor common room.

"I don't know, really," Elizabeth replied unsteadily, "I've always had a thing for minds. I can read people's thoughts and memories, feel their moods, and if I wanted to - control them. Can't any wizard do that stuff?"

"Well, I suppose so," Hermoine said with a concerned expression on her face, "But it's really advanced magic to control minds so easily-wait, your eyes are red! Have you been crying?"

Elizabeth put a hand up to her face. "No! I mean, I was just yawning-" She stretched and performed an exaggerated yawn. "-maybe I should go now, I'm just so _tired_."

"Right," said Hermoine, unconvinced, "Maybe you _should_ go, you're not supposed to be here anyways."

Harry gave her a reproachful look. "Elizabeth can be here if she wants. Rules aren't everything. C'mon Liz, I want to tell you something." He dragged through the portrait hole where no one could hear them. The Fat Lady eyed them disapprovingly.

"I made the Quidditch team! Remember when Malfoy stole the Remembrall? He meant to throw it far away except I flew after it on your broom and caught it! Well, Professor McGonagall saw the whole thing and immediately decided to let me join the team, all thanks to your broom!" He waited expectantly for Elizabeth's response.

"…I'm sorry. What's Quidditch?"

"Oh, I forgot! You don't know about these things! It's like a wizarding sport with hoops and different balls. Well, I'm the Seeker, and I just found out that…Dad was a Seeker too." Harry face swelled with pride.

"Wow…" said Elizabeth, feeling guilty for not telling the truth about their fathers. "congratulations."

"Thanks, I meant to return your broom, but…the thing is, I don't _have _a broom for Quidditch-"

"Oh, by all means, you can borrow it!"

"Really?"

"Of course, siblings share don't they?"

"Yeah, they do don't they?" Harry held her hand in thanks. "See you soon?"

"See you tomorrow in Herbology, Harry."

As Elizabeth walked back to her House, her mind was bursting with questions. Was Snape capable of being a father, or was his heart stuck on Lily? And hadn't that giant dog seemed to be sitting on some sort of door? What was with that? What's this school really up to? She had never been so concerned about what other people were thinking before. What was Snape doing tonight? Was he thinking about her? What about Harry? What's wrong with her? Was this love?


	14. The Long Awaited Moment

It was winter. Frost had built up on the edges of the windows and snow had transformed the whole school into a winter wonderland. Christmas was gone and the dreary winter holiday had just passed. Elizabeth was finishing her cereal as she read the book 1001 Most Advanced Spells Ever near the front of the Slytherin table. Her progression had been astounding to everyone. She had come to Hogwarts from a poor orphanage background, completely uneducated in wizarding ways, but now was at the top of her class, beating even Hermione in Potions, Defense Against Dark Arts, Charms, and Transfigurations. Anything that required pure knowledge, though, like History of Magic, she was completely hopeless in. She was an instinctual learner, and could perform the hardest of spells with only a few tries. It was not like there was much else to absorb herself in; she buried herself into the books as an excuse to forget everything else. At the moment, Elizabeth was only half-interested in her reading-she had read about some of these spells before-when she overheard Professor McGonagall talking to her father.

"She's really got her mother's brilliance, Severus. I do believe she'll be the first one in a long while to possibly, dare I say it, skip a year," said McGonagall to Professor Snape who pretended to ignore her and be absorbed in his morning toast. However, Professor McGonagall was relentless and continued in a slightly quieter voice, "I've heard that she's the up and coming Dumbledore himself-and in your House!"

"Mmm, that's wonderful, Minerva," said Snape emotionlessly, picking up his breakfast, "but my duty calls. Those essays aren't going to grade themselves." He got up and left the Great Hall in a rush, looking as if he needed to use the washroom urgently.

Elizabeth kept her eyes on her book the whole time, but her body stiffened when she felt him pass. He had been adamantly ignoring her ever since their last conversation in detention three months ago; Elizabeth missed getting on his nerves. And, she knew no matter how hard she dived into her books and practice, there would always be a hole inside her, waiting to be filled.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around, half-expecting Snape, but no, it was Harry, smiling excitedly at her. Harry was her only true friend in this school, but lately it had been hard to catch him alone since he had been made a Quidditch hero by winning the last match against Slytherin.

"Hey Liz, I've got something to show you tonight." he said in hushed tones, "Meet me outside the Fat Lady at nine." He walked on towards his own table like nothing had happened.

Elizabeth was intrigued, but that was for tonight. For now, Potions class awaited.

"Want to walk me to Potions, Drake?" She and Malfoy, however, were something entirely different. They were always on the feeble line between friendship and dislike because of their dramatic differences in their beliefs and backgrounds. It was a strained relationship, but over the months they've gotten to know each other, the friendship itself had gotten deeper. They were on the rock of tolerance. Harry disapproved, of course, but Harry wasn't her; he didn't understand the circumstances.

In a heartbeat, Malfoy gathered up his things in his seat across from her and grinned (his grins always came out as sneers no matter how hard he tried). "Ready."

"Can I ask you something, Liz?" Malfoy asked as they walked together.

"Yes?"

"Do you have a little crush on our professor or something?"

"What? Who?" She thought all the teachers she's had…McGonagall…what the hell…Flitwick…cute, but really?...Sprout…no…Snape…uh-oh, had she been doing a little too much staring?

"Of course not."

"But I've seen the way you look at him."

"Look at who?"

"Snape."

"You must be out of your mind!" Elizabeth gave him a look that said he was crazy.

Malfoy gave her a coy smile, "Oh, sure, sure. I'm the crazy one, you old-man lover." He skipped on into the dungeons with laughter.

Elizabeth tried to keep on a face of indignation when what she really felt was panic of being found out. She ran after him. "I do not_ love_ Snape, Malfoy you b-"

She stopped abruptly because who should it be but Snape himself who stood in front of her, a very odd look on his face.

Malfoy cracked up quietly in his seat, tears leaking out of his eyes, and leaning on the cauldron for support.

They stared at each other, Elizabeth determined not to back down and look away first. "Get to your seat, Potter," Snape snapped, turning his back and breaking his gaze.

He turned and flapped back to the front of classroom, but not before Elizabeth saw his cheeks tint a pale pink.

In her mind, Elizabeth thought, This might be a problem if he doesn't find out the truth somehow.

"Turn to page two-hundred and seventy-eight. We will begin learning about the Fungus Fighting potion."

As they were brewing their potions, Malfoy decided to do something he never done before.

"Sorry about that, Liz." His apology sounded genuine, but he still held a cheeky grin.

"Caught on to my silent treatment now, have you?" Elizabeth said coldly.

"Oh, come on, Liz, you brought the actual thing on yourself!"

"Did not," hissed Elizabeth softly now that she saw Snape was looking her way for the seventh time during this lesson.

Harry sidled up to her as he pretended to be grabbing porcupine quills from the cupboard behind her and whispered, "What's up with Snape? He's been glaring at you all day."

"You've noticed too?" Elizabeth was glad Harry wasn't there when she made her accidental proclamation. "I—"

"Hey, Potter, mind your own business, would you?" said Malfoy loudly, as to get Snape's attention.

Snape looked up from what he was busy with, and glared at Harry, which caused Harry to quickly return to his place, but not before giving Malfoy a dirty look.

Elizabeth whacked the back of Malfoy's head with her open hand, hard.

"What?"

"He's my brother, that's what."

The rest of Potions turned into a silent treatment for Malfoy, and just in spite, she tipped in the wrong ingredients into his mixture every so often when he was not looking, transforming his work into a bubbly, grey mess. At the end of class, she turned in her usual, perfectly-made potion with the rest of the students, and was about to leave when she heard Snape call her name.

"Potter! No, not you, Harry, you idiot. Elizabeth!" She unwillingly looked up at him. "Stay after class, Potter."

"Come here," Snape said dangerously.

Apprehensive, Elizabeth stood in front of Snape's desk as the rest of the students filed out of the classroom, wondering what she had done this time. Snape flicked his wand at his door when the last student cleared out and it slammed shut. Then, he cleared his throat.

"Do you know why you're here, Potter?" he asked, looking down at her, nose high, from behind his seat at his desk.

Elizabeth was not going there. She was going to avoid the obvious answer.

"Because…I was talking to my brother, Harry?"

"No, although…five points from Gryffindor for that… "

"No! Don't! Okay, is it because you think I like you? Because I don't…Malfoy was way out of line on that one."

Snape's face flushed, "That would be a problem, yes, but you are _here_ because I noticed you sneaking certain…ingredients into Mr. Malfoy's potion, and I presume from this—" He held up Malfoy's ruined potion, "that it was not intended to help him."

He got up and steadily crept towards Elizabeth, "Which brings me to my true concern. Do you mean to use the…information you procured savagely…to take advantage of me? Because if you are, I certainly won't allow for it—even if it means some _sacrifice_ on your part."

Why were her intentions always so misunderstood? "I promised I wouldn't tell, and I won't. There is no advantage on my part."

"I'm sorry Potter," he drawled sarcastically, "but for some reason your word isn't—"

"Stop calling me Potter—"

"You do not deserve the name Evans—"

"It _is_ my name. Potter is just completely inaccurate—"

"How so?"

Elizabeth stopped herself. "Nothing. So what am I looking at? Another detention?"

Snape stood face to face with Elizabeth. "Don't ignore the question."

"Which question?"

Although her father's face was still and stony, she could sense the tremors of anger run through his veins. It was the same feeling she had the last time she crossed the line of his patience with her. She backed away slightly, leaving her hand near her pocket.

However, Snape straightened up again, much to her surprise.

"If you won't tell me… Lily, she left you with a letter, did she not?"

Elizabeth pressed her lips together in defiance.

"Well, well. If you won't give it to me…ACCIO LETTER!"

The precious letter that Elizabeth always kept by her side flew out of her pockets before she could even open her mouth to protest.

Snape snatched it out of midair and began to read it with an intense hunger in his eyes.

"STOP! STOP IT! You have no right!"

Her arms flailed uselessly behind the Shield Charm he had just cast.

"Okay, I'll tell you! _I'll tell you_!"

Snape looked up smugly, satisfied at last. He put down the letter and waited.

"I really didn't want you to find out like this. I was waiting for when…when I thought you were ready to…to love me…when I saw something, _someone_ inside you who could care for _me_, not just Lily." Her voice was getting higher and higher as she progressed.

"_Not_ that I think Lily should be forgotten," said Elizabeth quickly looking at the frown developing on Snape's face, "She was a fantastic woman, I'm sure. Oh goodness, I'm rambling aren't I?"

She looked toward the ceiling and took a deep breath. "The reason…the reason that nobody knew about me at all when I came to Hogwarts was because I was supposed to be kept a …a secret,_ especially_, from you."

Her words were becoming gagged and garbled; she could feel the oncoming tears. She hated crying. Why did she have to cry?

"Go on…"

"You're my father," Elizabeth choked out, "There! I said it! Oh, god—" She covered her face in shame. She had never cried back in the orphanage no matter how bad it got because it made her feel weak. Elizabeth would not be weak—not in front of Snape. She only dared look up when she felt her mind gain control of her body once more, and what she saw surprised her.

Any colour that was left on Snape's face had drained and the wand that was held against Elizabeth clattered onto the floor. His expression said denial.

"No, NO! That's impossible! You're…you're not a year older than Harry!" He looked fiercely at her and snarled, "YOU LIE!"

"I didn't. Look!" Elizabeth searched her pockets and took out the golden pocket watch that she always kept with her. "_This_…this pulled me through time! I've been looking through every book in the library to find out how she did it! But…there are only mentions of time-turners…no real instruction on how to make one…_No_, you have to believe me! It really did move me forward five years!"

"Five years…" Snape was stricken and muttered senselessly, "Impossible…how could she hide such a…she would never…"

Elizabeth was disheartened. Had she been under the impression that the first time she met her father, he would joyfully accept her with tears and open arms? Yes. But this was Snape. What could she expect but denial? She turned to leave.

"Wait," came a gasp from behind her, "just…give me time—please…"

Elizabeth turned back around with half-hearted hope, "Take all the time you need."

Ten minutes later, Snape was sitting in a chair, his head in his hands, and still in disbelief.

"How-how is this possible?" he said shakily, trying very hard to hide the rush of tears.

"Please, prove it to me. Prove you're my daughter."

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment then pointed to the letter in his hand. "Read it. Read it and tell me that's not my mother's words."

He held it up once more and read.

"…bound for dark magic…his protrusion of a nose…greasy black hair…" he murmured to himself. At last, he calmly put down the papers onto his lap, breathless still.

"I have wronged you, Elizabeth-my daughter. No, no…-" He shook his head; it was obvious that his words were not coming out right. After a moment, he raised his palms helplessly and said, "I-I don't know what to say."

Elizabeth wiped her reddish eyes. For the first time in a long time, she felt like a little girl again. She didn't have to put up these barriers that once been forced upon her.

She reached out and held her daddy's worn, pale hand. "You don't have to say anything. Just be my dad."

Snape trembled slightly at her touch, but it was no longer unbearable. This time, it was different.

Snape grasped her small hands tightly in both of his and looked desperately into her bright green eyes with his own teary eyes. "No one must know. No one. I wasn't lying when I said it was for the good of the world."

Elizabeth looked at him and smiled, "Yeah, okay."


	15. Mirror Mirror

This is just a fun chapter, I think...but it develops the Snape/Elizabeth relationship. I really appreciate the comments and I LOVE ideas for the story and also criticism...I try to add ideas that my friends suggest if I think they're good. Enjoy!

Mirror Mirror

Elizabeth was curled up in a ball on her bed, snapping her pocket watch open and close, open and close with a dreamy smile on her face as she lay there in thought. Pansy Parkinson, her jealous roommate, spied Elizabeth's grin and frowned. She coveted Elizabeth's talent and her standing as Malfoy's close friend and famous Potter's sister. Sometimes, Elizabeth wished that people weren't so obvious with their feelings and intentions; their lack of control was annoying.

"What are you smiling at?" asked Pansy rudely.

"Nothing," said Elizabeth, getting up abruptly. "Just thinking about…Malfoy." Elizabeth felt somewhat guilty. She had read Pansy's mind and knew that she liked him and that it was where her weakness lay.

Pansy opened her mouth to reprimand Elizabeth, but couldn't. Instead, she ran out of the room on the verge of tears.

"Wait! Pansy!" shouted Elizabeth after her, but then she remembered: Fat Lady at nine! She grabbed her wand and left the room in haste.

When she reached the Fat Lady portrait, she whispered loudly, "Harry, I'm here!"

Out of what seemed like nowhere, he appeared, carrying a cloak in his hand.

"Woah! How did you…"

"Did I scare you? It's an invisibility cloak! Got it for Christmas," grinned Harry, fondly fingering the silvery fabric, "It was _Dad's_, you know. Don't know why it was given to me and not you. Anyways, get under here, I'm going to take you somewhere!"

They walked silently under the magical garment until they stopped at a wooden door that looked like every other. Harry uncloaked them both once they were inside.

"Come here, look." There in the center of the empty, stony-walled room stood a tall glass mirror with the words _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi _inscribed delicately on its magnificent golden frame. Elizabeth wondered at such beauty left unnoticed in so insignificant a room. She stepped in front of it. No one showed on the mirror.

"Harry, what is this?" She looked at her brother in confusion.

"Wait, look carefully at it." Harry had such an eager look on his face that Elizabeth immediately turned back around.

She fell backwards in a shout of fright. People had appeared behind her in the reflection, but there was no one when she looked around. She slowly sat up on the ground, attempting to inspect the mirror once more.

There stood the mother she longed for so well and beside her, Snape, but a different Snape. They both held her shoulders with wide smiles on their faces, beaming with pride while looking at _her_. She took a closer look at herself in the mirror. The Elizabeth that showed wore scarlet and gold robes, but when she looked back down on herself, her clothes were clearly silver and green.

"What do you see?" Harry inquired after Elizabeth seemed to be herself again.

"I still don't understand. Does it show my regrets, my wishes?"

"I'm not sure, but do you see them? Our family?"

Elizabeth knew she had to be careful as to not to give herself away, but with Harry, she wanted to be as honest as possible.

"Yes. I see Lily…Mum…she's patting me on my shoulder and looking awful proud. I'm wearing…Gryffindor robes and Dad…he's there too…"

Harry sat down contentedly next to her and sighed happily.

"Thank goodness you see them too. Finally…only you can understand me, Elizabeth. When I showed Ron the other night, he saw himself as the Quidditch captain or something. Couldn't see them _at all_—"

"But my Gryffindor robes—"

"Don't worry too much about it. You deserve to be a Gryfiindor as much as any of the other Gryffindors. Sorting Hat's mad for putting you with those Slytherins."

It felt good to hear that from Harry as she felt something that had been pulling on her mind melt away.

"Should we be heading back now?" asked Elizabeth after a long moment of gazing into the mirror had passed.

"Please—could we stay a bit longer?"

Elizabeth nodded and they sat side by side through the night, each dreaming of their own version of what could have been.

"Snape! Snape!" Elizabeth dashed through the Great Hall the next morning all the way up to the professors' table. "Sn—I mean _Professor_ Snape. You are needed immediately in the dungeons. There was a …great spill of your…Draught of Living Death." She paused to take a breath and widened her eyes meaningfully at him.

Elizabeth could feel the piercing gaze of Dumbledore's blue eyes on her.

"Well, Severus?" McGonagall asked tartly. "Aren't you going to clean up your mess?"

Snape looked as if he was caught in an awkward moment and got up so swiftly that he knocked over his cup of tea which spilt onto the floor.

"Sorry, I'll clean that up," he mumbled, embarrassed. He wasn't used to being caught this off-guard.

"No, let me help," Elizabeth beamed. With a wordless wave of her wand, all the tea returned to the cup which stood on the table like it had been untouched. The other professors began mumbling among themselves, "A first year? Marvelous…"

Snape grabbed her arm roughly and hauled her out of the Hall.

"What is this about? You nearly gave us away out there!" he snarled after he was absolutely sure they were alone.

"They haven't a clue, Snape…Dad," chuckled Elizabeth with glee. "There's something I want to show you, something that has to do with Mum." She grabbed his hand and led him to the door Harry had shown her last night. Snape reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged into the room.

"What? What is there to see?"

"Look into that mirror. No, _here_, stand in front of it," Elizabeth instructed. "Now, what do you see?"

Snape stood where he was told and looked into the mirror. He, too, noticed the markings on the top of the mirror.

"Erised…_desire_…"

Elizabeth gazed expectantly up at him, but she only saw a strange look grow upon his face.

"_Lily_, why is she…"

Elizabeth was ecstatic, nearly jumping up and down. "Am I there too? Do you see me? All of us, together?"

Snape looked extremely uncomfortable as he answered coolly, "Yes, yes…we're all very happy…all together…"

She narrowed her eyes at him. Somehow, she did not think he was being completely truthful. Anxious to know what exactly he saw, she touched her wand and concentrated with her mind. The wand, she found, was the key to helping her focus and intensify the magic she already had within her, so within moments, she broke into the fortresses of Snape's mind, reading his thoughts. Snape inhaled sharply as he felt her peruse his brain; his barriers were only down because he never thought such an attack could be from her.

"Oh, my goodness! Severus Prince Snape!" exclaimed Elizabeth in disgust. "_That's _what you see when you look in the mirror?" She let go of her hold on his mind, and Snape let out a great gasp as she did.

"ELIZABETH LILY SNAPE! HOW DARE YOU…" He was white with rage. "_**MY**_MIND!" He breathed heavily. "You are _never_ to do that to me or anyone ever again! Do understand me?"

"But I only wanted to see—"

"NEVER—"

"But you weren't telling the truth—"

"AGAIN!"

Elizabeth was silent for a long minute.

"At least it's Mum you long for naked and not someone else," she grinned hopefully.

Snape smacked the side of her head, moderately lightly; Elizabeth took this as a sign of forgiveness and eagerly continued.

"And what's this about my name being Elizabeth Lily Snape?"

He let out a little sigh. "Well, I thought it over last night and felt that it was best if your name had a bit of everyone; obviously, you will take my name, and bit of Lily's, and of course, a bit of your own." His expression looked as if he regretted such contemplations.

Elizabeth was stunned by his thoughtfulness. "That's _very_ sweet of you, Dad."

Snape grimaced. "I do wish you wouldn't say that, you sound awfully like your Mother."

Elizabeth positively glowed. "Oh, I do? Heh, well, I try."

"Not well enough, I suppose. Not enough to appear on my mirror."

Elizabeth was taken aback. "Really, Sev— is it okay if I call you that? Dad just feels weird— was that an attempt at a joke? Don't worry. I'll appear on that mirror for you too, soon enough." She reached up to hug him.

Snape conceded with the hug but growled, "Merlin's beard, what have I brought into this world?"


	16. Betrayal

Winter melted into green, flowery spring, and the sounds of students returned to the air once more. For Elizabeth, life had never been better. She was above the clouds, on the highest mountains, and if anything happened to push her over the mountain's cliff, she felt like she could to fly up over it all.

"Allow me to do that for you, Professor Quirrell," said Elizabeth. She flicked her wand, and all the books that had fallen from the stuttering teacher's hands returned lightly and quickly back into his arms.

"W-why, th-thank you E-evans."

Of course, Elizabeth did that small act of kindness mostly as an excuse to do magic which she could never get tired of, no matter how simple the spell. There was also her inextinguishable good mood that she had been in since the beginning of the new year. However, like all highs there came the inevitable low because final exams were creeping up, and there was not a student in the school that didn't either have their noses buried in a textbook or their minds focused on finding how to cheat their way out like the Weasley twins. Personally, she didn't enjoy spending these days outside in case some person came around and accidentally burned her nose off trying to practice the Inflaming Charm, but she had to leave the dormitories this afternoon to have a scheduled tea with Harry, Hermoine, Ron, and Hagrid; it had sounded very urgent.

"I'm here!" she called out to Hagrid.

"Elizabeth! Glad ter see you! How've you been getting' on?" bellowed Hagrid, bursting out of his cabin alarmingly fast for a man his size.

"Very well, thanks. Hello Harry."

Harry nodded his greeting. "Let's go inside. I've got something important I want to tell you."

"Why is it when you want to meet me, there's always something interesting planned?" Elizabeth asked Harry once all of them were inside the hut and settled down with tea cups in their hands. Fortunately, Hagrid had brightened up by providing treacle tarts instead of his usual very solid scones. Elizabeth hoped it wasn't her face from last time she visited that caused him to change his choice of snacks. "Tell me, what are we up to this time?"

Harry gave a sideways glance at Hermoine and Ron. Only he knew she was referring their adventure with the Mirror of Erised. "I'm not sure if it's going to be fun like the past times. Actually, it's pretty dangerous. Remember the three-headed dog, Fluffy, we saw on the third floor? We found out that it was protecting something, something Nicolas Flamel made—"

"Fluffy? And who's Nicolas Flamel?"

"That's Hagrids name for the dog. Nicolas is an alchemist who worked with Dumbledore to make the Sorcerer's Stone—it gives the owner unlimited life and can turn things into gold—"

"Ruddy regret tellin' you any of this," muttered Hagrid.

"We think that Snape is—"

"Maybe we shouldn't tell her," Hermoine interjected worriedly, "She's too close to him, you know, being in Slytherin and all; it wouldn't be too hard for him to figure out what we're thinking."

Harry looked fiercely determined, however. "She's my sister. If I can't trust her, who can I trust?"

"I don't mean it like that Harry! It's just Professor Snape could find ways to make her tell the truth even if we—"

"Snape likes you, doesn't he? He's seems to favor you exclusively since Christmas," said Harry to Elizabeth, purposely disregarding Hermoine's excuses.

Elizabeth was slightly uneased by Harry's observations but nodded anyways, "I'm the star Potions student, right?" She chuckled nervously.

Hermoine looked away with a deep scowl on her face.

"Right, we think he's trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone."

Elizabeth nearly spit out her tea. "H-have you got any proof?"

"We do. He's been trying to get in since Halloween; remember that troll incident—"

"Yes, you were almost killed weren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm almost completely sure it was him because I saw him with a bloody gash on his leg the next day which he tried to hide, and in the teacher's lounge, he was muttering something about trying to concentrate on all three heads at once; it _must_ have been Fluffy!"

"Why, that weaseling swine—" said Elizabeth murmured under her breath. _Surely, not the Snape she now knew?_

"What's that about weasels?" Ron questioned instantly, mouth stuffed with treacle tart.

"Nothing."  
"Now, look here!" Hagrid exclaimed out of the blue. "I don't believe Snape ter be such a fool ter try ter steal the Stone under Dumbledore's nose. Besides, he's a Hogwarts professor, remember? I tol' you he's tryna' _protect_ it, not steal it!"

"Maybe Hagrid's right." Elizabeth kept forcing herself to think positive. If what Harry and the others said were true, then it was going to be a long way down to a miserable mood.

"And oh yeah," grimaced Harry, "We, er, sort of had detention because Malfoy and Filch caught us wandering around at night and lost Gryffindor a hundred and fifty points…although I thought you'd know that by now…"

There was a long pause as Elizabeth's mouth fell wide open. "_A hundred and fifty?_ How..."

Hagrid sighed and rubbed his cheeks. "All my ruddy fault—lettin' you all hang around while Norbert's here. Shouldn'a let you get involved, an', an' Norbert's gone fer good too…" Hagrid trumpeted a loud sneeze into a well-soiled handkerchief and let out a great sob.

Elizabeth rushed to his side and began patting his back to comfort him. "There, there—" She turned her head towards Harry and mouthed, "Who's Norbert?"

"His pet dragon," Harry mouthed.

Elizabeth's eyes nearly bulged out of her sockets. _A pet dragon? What's next? _Goodness, she couldn't think anything bigger than a dragon.

Harry cleared his throat. "I think we ought to leave now. There's still a lot to study—"

"We came _here_ to study together," said Hermoine with her eyebrows raised, "Remember, Harry?"

"Oh, yeah. Well…Elizabeth hasn't got her books. Want to go back and get them, Liz?"

Why she would get them when she didn't really want to study was a mystery, but the look on Harry's face told her that he had other reasons. She was going to explode if she didn't leave soon anyhow.

"Absolutely."

"There's more, you know."

"More?"

"More proof that it's Snape. I saw him threatening Quirrell in the forest, asking him to tell him if he's figured out how to control Fluffy."

Elizabeth couldn't hold it in anymore. "THAT LYING BASTARD!"

Her brother almost fell over in shock. He steadied his glasses on his nose. "W-why are you so upset?"

A look of annoyance crept onto her face. "SNAPE! I've worked hard for him, made excuses for him, and even lied for him—and what do I get in return? He tries to kill my only living brother for…gold and more of his pathetic life! The nerve of him! The damn nerve!" She held her hand to her mouth, trying to stifle a sob.

Harry clutched her shoulder with a shaky hand. "You're really unpredictable, you know that? I'm very glad I'm on your good side."

"Should be," hiccupped Elizabeth, slowly regaining composure.

"So about Snape—"

Elizabeth gave him an exasperated look. "What do you want me to do about it, Harry? Try to lose Slytherin as many points as possible? Because the way I feel about things now, I'd be _more_ than eager to do so, but—"

Harry let out a small laugh. "That would be nice. But what I was _really_ wondering was if you could…distract Snape while we go get the Sorcerer's Stone before he does."

The sudden revealing of the plan took her by surprise. "But…but Harry! It's extremely dangerous! You've already almost died once; I don't want to lose you again—"

"—If I don't do this, I'm going to die anyways." Harry hesitated and looked away from his sister.

"It's Voldemort. He's the one ultimately trying to get the Stone."

Elizabeth was crushed; the world could end right now for all she cared. "So Snape is working for…"

"Yes Liz, please do it…for me."

Elizabeth mulled it over, but it didn't take her long to reach a decision. She stood hotly on the school staircase and faced Harry.

"Gladly, and don't wait up for me. I'll be in my room…getting ready."

She disappeared quickly into the dungeons.


	17. Unforgivable Mistakes

Chap. 17: Confrontation

It was going to be tonight. There was no way around it, yet Elizabeth didn't know why she was so anxious. She had never been this nervous before; afraid, yes, but never nervous. Elizabeth reasoned that it was because of her lack of opportunity to perform, and that tonight, she would be putting on the performance of a lifetime.

It was also unusually cold, and no matter how many pieces of clothing she put on, her hands shook and her teeth chattered violently. It was as if the warmth in her body left the moment her heart was broken.

Elizabeth was standing in the room where the mirror of Erised had been, the agreed meeting area. The mirror itself had inexplicably disappeared and for Elizabeth, the lack of ability to picture her heart's desire it only made the place seem stonier. She stopped her wandering thoughts as she heard the door creak open but no one entered the room.

"Are you ready, Liz?" whispered a bodiless voice.

Elizabeth jumped up in alarm. "Harry! You've really got to stop doing that!"

Harry uncloaked, revealing both Ron and Hermoine by his side.

"They're in on this too?" frowned Elizabeth. "You shouldn't drag so many people with you…it makes everything riskier!"

"Yeah, I know, but they wouldn't let me do this myself."

"We _couldn't_ let Harry do this alone," Hermoine piped up, "If we are going to do this properly, we have to do it together."

"Then maybe I should go with you too. You might need my skills to face whatever is in those chambers," offered Elizabeth.

"No," said Harry, "You _have_ to stop Snape. It's the best way to reduce complications."

"Perhaps we're already too late and he's already gone…"

"Well, we've got to try, right? Go now. We're leaving for the third floor right away."

"Oh, Harry!" Elizabeth ran and hugged him tightly, feeling like it was the last time she would see him. She let go, but still held on to both of his shoulders. "Do be careful! Here." She took out her mother's golden pocket watch. "Take it. It was Mum's. It saved me from a bad situation once—maybe it'll help you too."

Harry grasped her hand, taking the watch. "See you soon."

Elizabeth was no longer the affectionate daughter, eager to win her father's love and make him proud. She was cold Elizabeth again, fresh out of the orphanage, bitter about life, and unwilling to open up to anyone else, much less her fallen father. Her barriers had returned; she was her own number one once more.

The halls were dark as Elizabeth rounded the corner to the teacher's lounge, her footsteps growing more furtive and fearful with every step. Taking a deep breath, she put her hand on the door handle to the room and pressed down. It opened easily and soundlessly.

Three shocked faces stared up at her, but Professor McGonagall was the first to open her mouth.

"Looking for someone, Evans?" she asked sharply. "You shouldn't be here. We're all very busy grading your exams, you know."

Elizabeth gulped. "I'm sorry. I just need to talk to Snape about something important…_privately_." McGonagall looked doubtful of the subject's importance, but with a flare of her nostrils, she returned to grading parchments.

Snape immediately rose from his chair and followed her outside, looking more than willing to escape his responsibilities.

Elizabeth shut the door behind them and walked down the hall without looking even once at her father. She held up her wand. "_Lumos_."

"What's going on?" asked Snape, his sallow skin unusually flushed with anticipation as he followed eagerly beside her.

She stopped once they were in a deserted corridor far from the professor's lounge and turned to face him, purposely letting the light blind his eyes. Her face was anything but what Snape expected. It was the face of bitter disgust; her usual glowing emerald eyes were now a blunt green.

"_Accio wand_," Elizabeth murmured. Snape's wand flew effortlessly from his robes into her free hand.

"What—"

"You lied."

"Don't be silly. Give me back my wand, Elizabeth—" he replied testily, giving her an irritated look.

"No."

"Elizabeth!" Snape reached for his wand in her hand and would have gotten hold of it if Elizabeth hadn't quickly cried, "_Locomotor Mortis__—"_

Snape's legs locked together in an instant and he fell back rigidly to the ground.

"ELIZABETH!" Snape roared with real fury this time.

"_Muffliato_," said Elizabeth with a twisted smile. "I wouldn't try yelling again if I were you. No one can hear you now."

Snape struggled but all he could do was watch in horror as Elizabeth raised her wand to work another spell. Much to his surprise, she stopped midway, instead asking, "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?" grimaced a struggling Snape.

"Try to steal the Stone. Work for that despicable Lord Voldemort…Leave Mum."

Confusion clouded Snape's eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't lie to me. Did you or did you not work for Lord Voldem—"

"Do not say the name!" he growled. "And yes, I had, but that is behind me now."

"I doubt it", Elizabeth scoffed. "I can see it now. Mum left you because of that, didn't she? I don't think I could stand seeing the person I love follow some evil maniac like a puppy."

"I WAS _NOT_ LIKE A PUPPY!" her father cried in frustration, his snarl becoming ever more pronounced. "She…I…had no choice!"

"No choice? Like how you have no choice now?"

"No, Elizabeth, listen to me! You don't know what you're doing! I'm not working for the Dark Lord, and I don't plan to ever again!"

"I wish I could believe you. I really do", said Elizabeth, trying not to sound regretful at all, "but I simply can't. Everything you do is a mystery, a lie, no, don't protest—you would have never let me in if you didn't have to." She tapped her chin as if in thought and smiled, "Apologize, and perhaps I'll let you go."

Snape looked appalled and then sneered. "I will not _beg _for my life from a foolish girl who doesn't know what she's doing."

"Wrong answer…Dad." She gave him a look of cold amusement.

She poised her wand at his front, hands still like the frost on a winter's morning. Yet, her mind was turning, unsure if it was able to go through with this torture. She broke down, dropping her detached façade.

"I can't…I can't…" She held her head in her hands, thinking hard for a way out.

Her insides was at war with itself. Half of her believed strongly that this was the best choice, the most satisfying way of enacting her revenge, releasing her anger after all these years. However, her other half, in the form of a tiny, motherly voice, firmly told her that this wasn't her, no matter how much she wanted it to be.

She realized at last. This was what the Sorting Hat was talking about. This was what she lacked—what she wanted the most:

Love—and from that stemmed every other good thing that has happened thus far in her life.

"—_Petrificus Totalus_." Snape's full body went into a rigor; he could neither speak nor move a muscle. "Don't you even _think _about hurting Harry. Professor Dumbledore will find you here and bring justice when this is all over—"

"I dare say I will—" said a voice to her rear.

Elizabeth turned around as she watched both her and Snape's wand fly in a high arc and into the hands of…Professor Dumbledore.

She emitted a cry of alarm. "Harry said you were gone!"

"I was, but I had a feeling the place I needed to be was here and, I'm afraid, as usual, I was right. You must understand that this doesn't look too good for you, Elizabeth." Dumbledore's voice rumbled with authority, turning Elizabeth's legs to lead. The headmaster waved the wand in his hand and Elizabeth shut her eyes in anticipation of death or worse…agony. However, nothing seemed to have happened.

Looking behind her, Elizabeth realized what Dumbledore had really intended to do with his spell. A black figure rose slowly from the ground, shaking off the stiffness in its bones.

"You," gasped Snape, breathing heavily, "are a monster."

Elizabeth staggered backwards, shaking her head in disbelief. Everything was going so _wrong_. She fell to her knees in front of Professor Dumbledore.

"_PLEASE_, Professor!" she implored, "I never meant to hurt him—you have to believe me! It's _him _doing harm! _He's_ the one who's trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone for Lord Voldemort! That's why Harry—"

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked, his voice suddenly filled with concern. "And where is he now?"

"Trying to retrieve the Stone! He was sure that Snape would try to take it tonight, so—"

Dumbledore didn't allow Elizabeth to finish her sentence. One word escaped from his lips before he turned and charged down the halls: "Quirrell."


	18. Into the Chambers

Before you guys think I gave up on Snape and Elizabeth eventually coming together...do not despair. there will be more...in a sequel-like story :) love, sweetreverie

Elizabeth took one last look at Snape's anguished visage and turned to chase after Professor Dumbledore. Snape didn't matter to her anymore; only Harry did.

She caught up to the Headmaster on the third floor. They were both panting in exhaustion from their running. It was odd; he looked very old and frail in this moment.

"What are you doing, Elizabeth? This is no job for a child like yourself!" asked Dumbledore sternly, quite unlike his usual gentle self.

"I can help Professor! I beg you—this is Harry, my only brother, my only family!"

He softened slightly. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but it would be better if I handle this myself—"

Elizabeth was not going to back down. "Sir! I am not weak—after all, I subdued Professor Snape."

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes gave her a calculating look, but eventually conceded, "Very well, but you must promise stay behind me at all times, and do everything I say…_everything_, no matter how much you might not want to. Do I have your word?"

Elizabeth crossed her heart with a finger. "And hope to die!"

"Good, too much time has already been wasted." Dumbledore didn't have to unlock the latch; the door turned into a pile of ash at the jab of his wand. However, there was no time to be amazed by the spectacular magic she just witnessed. Fluffy loomed at large above them, looking meaner and keener than before. Fortunately for Elizabeth, she knew exactly what to do. She put the giant dog under in a record of ten seconds.

They ran up to the trapdoor that was no longer blocked by the monster that now slept in peace. "Well done, Elizabeth." He waved his own wand at the trapdoor; it blasted open, ripping a door-shaped hole through what seemed to be a tangle of vines. It revealed a gravelly floor more than twenty meters below.

"Jump down," said Dumbledore calmly, as if the fall wasn't going to smash both of Elizabeth's legs into smithereens. She looked at the professor in horror and back down at the hole. The vines seemed to be moving, ready to eat her alive.

Dumbledore put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Trust me," before giving her a hard push. She shrieked the whole way down, but Dumbledore didn't lie; she landed softly on the stony floor safely, although quite shaken. The headmaster himself was already working swiftly towards the next entrance.

"Don't fall behind, Elizabeth!" he called to her.

She got up slowly, wiping the dust off of her robes as she hobbled after Dumbledore who had astonishingly crossed several rooms already, including one littered with winged keys (they all lay on the floor with their wings broken), one with a gigantic chessboard (all the pieces were broken or sliced in half), and one with a giant troll (knocked out cold and smelling like a pig sty). The headmaster was like a steam engine that could not be stopped.

"Wow, you made quick work of them," said Elizabeth as she approached Dumbledore who had paused in front of the door leading into the room after the trolls.

The professor chuckled. "There are some advantages to being me. However…this is the last room, and I need to know that you are able to fight if you need to."

Elizabeth readied herself, straightening out her robes, and then reached out her hand. "Yes, I am. I'll just need my wand, if you don't mind."

"No, of course not." Dumbledore handed her back her wand and then waved his own; the wooden door ruptured open. They stepped into it together, side by side. Flames, purple and black, suddenly shot up, licking the high ceiling and effectively blocking the entrance and exit. Elizabeth didn't panic this time; she trusted that Dumbledore could handle it.

"Ah, Severus," smiled Dumbledore, amused, "always the clever one. Elizabeth, I'm afraid we can't blast our way through this one."

"What? Then how…"

A tiny, glass vial containing a silvery liquid floated into Elizabeth's hands.

"Drink this after I've gone through the fire."

"But wait! You'll—" A piercing scream emanated from the other side of the fire.

"It's Harry!" Elizabeth cried.

Dumbledore didn't wait a moment longer. After muttering a single incantation, he ran into the flames.

Not wanting to miss saving her brother, Elizabeth closed her eyes and swallowed the potion. As she did, her body felt like it turned into ice, frosting even her warm breath. She threw herself at the black fire, pushing through darkness until—she reached the other side, the final room.

The scene was something out of one of Elizabeth's worst nightmares. Harry lay motionless on the floor with a dark shadow with a horrid, slitty-eyed face hovered above him as if it was an evil spirit from a bad horror flick. Dumbledore had just began to chant a spell, and a jet of white light spat forth from his wand at the shadow, but an invisible barrier caused the light to ricochet off in another direction.

While Dumbledore was trying to work another spell, the bodiless face began to descend upon the unconscious Harry.

That was it. Elizabeth wasn't going to wait around for another failed enchantment. She ran at the shadow, wand raised high, shooting off every single spell she'd ever known, but in vain.

"_Stupefy! _Uh, _Reducto!_ _Petrificus Totalus! Levicorpus! Stupefy! Stupefy! _Ohhh! This isn't working!_ Avada—"_

"ELIZABETH! STOP RIGHT NOW!" roared Dumbledore from behind her. Dumbledore halted her with the Freezing Charm.

Multi-colored streaks of light flew at the enemy, but they all bounced off an unseen shield. The shadow was momentarily distracted, turning its suspended face towards Elizabeth.

Elizabeth collapsed in a position of mid-step on top of Harry. She didn't fall lightly; her nose hit the floor, breaking it. Blood gushed out of her nostrils. _At least I'll die protecting Harry_, she thought, frozen and helpless. _Goodbye, world. I tried living a good life in the end, I really did. Just wish you'd dealt better cards._

Elizabeth was face down, drowning in a pool of her own blood and couldn't see what was going on with the shadow above her, but she remembered hearing something shatter like glass and a chilly feeling surrounding her as a breathy voice hissed into her ear.

"_A little girl that dares to try and kill Lord Voldemort. You will not be forgotten."_

If she was able to, Elizabeth would have shivered as the sound of the icy voice passed over her still body. It was getting colder and colder, and soon, like Harry, she fell into darkness.

_Bzzz…Bzzzt…_

Elizabeth woke to a faint buzzing in her ear. The noises got louder and louder until she realized they were human voices.

"Calm yourself, my dear Poppy," someone mumbled, "I've always suspected it to be so. It is not your fault in the least."

Elizabeth's eyes now fluttered open, taking a few seconds to adjust to the bright lights. She was lying in a white bed with white sheets…must be the hospital wing. The body of the voice now blurred into view, purple and gold robes bedecked with stars and moons moved about.

She cracked open her lips to speak. "W-where am I?"

Madam Pomfrey let out a shout of surprise. "Oh! You're awake, Elizabeth!" Extreme joy and relief were apparent in the woman's tone. The little old lady immediately ran to her side, filling a cup with water and holding it to Elizabeth's lips. Elizabeth drank, letting the cool wetness fill her hot, dry mouth and run smoothly down her parched throat. She looked at the lady now; Madam Pomfrey had obviously been crying and her worry lines were etched much deeper into her face than Elizabeth remembered them to be.

"Poppy," Elizabeth smiled weakly. The nurse's touch made her feel very comfortable. For a second, she imagined this was how a mother would care for her child.

"You stay here and rest up, love," Pomfrey said shakily, still wiping the stray tears from her beautifully wrinkled face. She took Elizabeth's hand and stroked it tenderly, "I'm so sorry…so sorry. If I only known what would have happened, I'd have—"

The man in the purple and gold robes cleared his throat. It was Professor Dumbledore. "Poppy, perhaps it would be better if you go and…what is the phrase... powder your nose— you wouldn't want the children seeing you like this, would you?"

Pomfrey's hands flew to her face realizing just what a mess she was.

"Oh! Yes…yes, right away."

She ran to her office.

"Now, Elizabeth," Dumbledore said softly, "how are you feeling?"

Elizabeth looked down at herself. No broken bones and only a couple of bruises. She rubbed her nose. It felt good as ne

"I feel fine," she replied, leaning back comfortably on the propped up pillows. Then, remembering why she was bedridden in the first place, she sat straight up, exclaiming, "Wait! Sir! Where is Harry?"

Dumbledore put his fingers to his lips, signing for silence. "Harry", he said, pointing to the next bed over, "is still asleep."

Elizabeth followed his finger and saw Harry lying peacefully among white sheets and looking rather content. Her gaze shifted to his bedside where there was a ridiculously enormous pile of gifts and candies that looked like someone bought out half a candy store. Then she looked at the end of her own bed and to her surprise, there was a fair-sized heap of presents there too. One thing that stood out was a glass vase with three lilies floating on water. She reached out and picked it up, wondering who could have given it to her.

"They're tokens from your admirers." The headmaster gave a small chuckle, "I tried keeping what happened a secret, but like all the great ones, this secret was not kept for long." He walked to the side of Elizabeth's bed and sat down. "What you did down there was very heroic, Elizabeth; I don't know if even I could have cast such impressive spells at your age."

Elizabeth looked embarrassed and tried to change the subject. "How long have we been asleep?"

"Almost three days, I believe. Mr. Malfoy will be pleased to know that you've come round. He's been very worried you know."

For the first time in a while, Elizabeth was caught off-guard, her cheeks turning a delicate pink. "Has he now?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled. "Indeed he has. In fact, he had been visiting so often that Madam Pomfrey had to shoo him away. However, I believe your classmate Miss Parkinson is not too pleased."

"Oh, yeah," mumbled Elizabeth, once again feeling guilty for what she did to Pansy. "But, sir, I don't understand. What _was_ that shadowy thing that tried to kill Harry?"

Dumbledore's light tones suddenly became a little more serious. "That, my dear girl, was Lord Voldemort himself," he paused to think, "Well, at least a manifestation of what he used to be."

Elizabeth despaired. "So Harry _was_ telling the truth, and Snape...he's—"

"No, no. That is where you got things a little mixed up. Snape was never working for Lord Voldemort—"

"—But Snape himself said he had!"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "He had, indeed. It is possibly the most terrible decision that he had ever made in his life; he regretted it very much later on as you probably know…Elizabeth Snape."

For the second time that day, Elizabeth was taken aback. "You know?"

"Yes, I do. However, I wasn't sure of it until Poppy here told me the whole story. My goodness, love can be such a beautiful thing." He smiled dreamily and hummed a little tune while looking up at the ceiling.

"Professor?"

"Hmm?"

"Did we do it? Did we rid of Lord Voldemort once and for all?"

Dumbledore broke out of his daydream and sighed. "No, Elizabeth, we did not, but we definitely stopped him from taking the Stone for himself. He is probably still out there somewhere, looking for another cold-blooded follower like our late Professor Quirrell—"

She gasped. "It was Professor Quirrell? But how—"

"_How_ Professor Quirrell came to follow Voldemort, we can never be quite sure, but believe me when I say this: Severus was trying to stop him the whole time; he was working for _me_."

Elizabeth's face grew stony. "Why are you telling me this? I want nothing to do with that man anymore and…my name is actually Elizabeth Lily Snape; Snape, he...I mean, nevermind."

Dumbledore chortled, "I suppose it's natural for you to hate him right now, and I don't presume you're in his liking either at the moment; the whole school knows how you, a first year, overpowered him—he's dying in shame, especially among the professors. But, Elizabeth, listen to me." He looked straight at her with one of his sagacious stares. "Severus doesn't know it yet, but he loves you very much. No, don't look away. I know what you're thinking and it isn't at all like the love he loved Lily with, no. It's a different kind of love, one only that a father can give. He's still learning open up, not unlike yourself, and I do hope you will just give him time."

Elizabeth tried staying silent, but she felt the intensity of Dumbledore's gaze, and nodded reluctantly. She didn't feel like discussing the subject any further.

"We'll see. I'm sorry, professor, but I'm rather tired. Could I—"

The headmaster got up from the bed immediately, "Of course, you need your rest. Madam Pomfrey is going to kick me out soon enough anyhow." He turned to leave, but stopped midway.

"A word of warning, Elizabeth," Dumbledore said while not facing her, "The Killing Curse does not come without consequences. I would not advise using it unless absolutely necessary." His tone was light, but Elizabeth could tell that the warning was serious. He left without another word.


	19. No Such Thing as Happy Endings?

It was later in the afternoon that Harry woke up while Elizabeth was enjoying a light read of Hermione's recommendation, Hogwarts, A History.

"Elizabeth?" murmured Harry, slipping on his glasses.

Elizabeth slammed her book shut in surprise, looking to her brother.

"Harry! You're awake!" she shouted with elation, getting up and jumping from her bed to his. She felt like a child at her first sleepover. Technically, it _was_ her first sleepover. "Are you feeling all right?"

Harry got up slowly, his whole body obviously aching. He rubbed his forehead with his hand. "I have a nasty headache."

Elizabeth reached over to the table at the side of the bed and poured him a glass of water. "Must be because you've been sleeping for three days. Drink up."

Harry took the cup and sipped at it. "Three days…wow. Wait! What about the Stone? I… I'm confused! Why are you in a hospital gown too?"

She giggled at her brother's baffled expression and jokingly patted his head. "Oookay…Calm down, Charlie Brown. You almost died when Professor Quirrell and Voldemort attacked you, but luckily, Dumbledore and I came to your rescue and saved you…Well, it was mostly Dumbledore doing the rescuing. I sort of fell on the ground, broke my nose, and fainted."

"Typical," Harry laughed.

Elizabeth repeatedly poked his forehead in response to his comment.

"Ow! Sorry! Stop it! Woah…" Harry ogled the pile of candy at the end of his bed. "Where'd that come from?"

"People. Your fan girls," Elizabeth smirked. "Apparently, you're a great hero now—even more so than before—for fighting Voldemort and winning…_again_."

Harry scratched the back of his neck, a clear sign of embarrassment. "I really wish they wouldn't. Being famous and stuff…it's really tiring sometimes and not always that great, but oh well, I got candy." He reached out and grabbed a Chocolate Frog.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Sooo tiringgg…hey, are you going to the Great Hall for dinner tonight? Drake is probably expecting me."

"Drake?"

"Malfoy."

Harry frowned. "Why do you even talk to him?"

She shrugged. "He's an okay person, actually. When he's not being a jerk or an all-round bully to Neville, he's actually quite like…you."

"What?" roared Harry. "No way! I'm _nothing_ like him."

However, Elizabeth just smiled in her special way and said, "Whatever you say. I'm going down to the Great Hall now. Join me?"

"Nah, I reckon I'll stay here until tomorrow."

"Alright, your choice." She grabbed her clothes from her bedside table, pulled the screen between her and Harry shut and began to change.

She had just finished tying her shoelaces when she heard an "Uh-oh" from the other side of the curtain.

"Uh, Elizabeth?"

"Yes?"

"You know that golden pocket watch you lent me?"

Elizabeth instantaneously pushed the curtains back, expecting the worst.

It was the worst. Her precious watch was shattered.

"I'm so sorry! I know it was Mum's, and I was carrying it in my pocket, so when I fell down—"

She held up her hand. "It's...it's okay. I can go get it fixed." She held it gingerly, listening for the familiar sound of gears turning inside the little golden case. Nothing. She pocketed it with a deep sigh.

"See you tomorrow, Harry." She headed for the door.

Harry looked utterly devastated. "Yeah, see you. And Liz?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for saving me."

"_Goodnight_, Harry." She closed the door behind her.

Back in the Great Hall, Elizabeth was not in the least welcome in her Slytherin table, although she did receive several uncertain grins from the Gryffindor side and even a cheery wave from Ron and Hermione. She didn't care anymore. She was a different Elizabeth, not the unhappy, pitiful Elizabeth she believed she had reverted back to, just a more realistic one. If her House hated her, she was not going to waste her time trying to win their affection.

It didn't take long for Elizabeth to pick out her target's blonde head among the sea of slimy, black Slytherin heads. Drake seemed to be happily in conversation with Pansy Parkinson, who kept his attention by producing an irritating girlish giggle every so often. And of course, Drake's nauseatingly constant companions, Crabbe and Goyle who Elizabeth liked to consider part of the background now, sat across from him and Pansy. Elizabeth slid in the seat next to Malfoy and knocked him in the side lightly with her elbow to get his attention. He whirled around.

"Elizabeth!" he gushed with more joy than he meant to, his hand slicking back his already well-gelled hair-do. "How _do _you do?"

Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and Elizabeth all stared at him strangely.

"What?" retorted a reddening Malfoy, "Manners, you know? 'Course, I expect none of you have any."

Elizabeth grinned. "That's more like the Drake I know."

Pansy gave her a deadly glare from behind Malfoy's head.

"Hello, Pansy," said Elizabeth with a kind smile. Pansy didn't respond.

Elizabeth tried again. "I'm sorry if I caused any misunderstanding between us, but I want you to know, I didn't mean any ill will. Friends?" She stuck out her hand, feeling like she owed her roommate this much.

Malfoy looked at Pansy expectantly, so spiteful girl unwillingly clasped Elizabeth's hand. Elizabeth could feel nails dig into the back of her hand, but she didn't make a sound. Pansy let go with a smirk, got up and sat down next to another girl, Millicent Bullstrode, instead, thankfully for Elizabeth, on the far end of the table.

"So," continued Malfoy, "I want to hear this first hand and not from some _gallant_, gabbing Gryffindor…what happened with You-Know-Who?"

Elizabeth took a bite of the Shepard's pie that had appeared in front of her and chewed slowly. Telling Drake the truth would be tricky for she knew the moment she revealed anything to him, he would snidely tell all his Slytherin friends what he heard for the sake of their approval. She decided on a simple, "We stopped him." No lies there.

"Well, I _know_ that. You're alive, aren't you? But really, what exactly happened?" pressed Malfoy. When Elizabeth wouldn't look at him, he realized it. "You don't trust me do you?"

"No, I just… don't want to talk about it. Can we talk about something else? How were the exams? The results were supposed to come out last night?"

"Ah, yes. Exams. I don't believe you should be surprised that you received highest marks in everything except—"

"History of Magic, right?"

"And Potions."

"And Potions?" Elizabeth exclaimed incredulously.

"Unfortunately, both were topped by that Mudblood, Granger," Malfoy grimaced.

She glared at him. "Don't call her Mudblood…But I was at least on the top ten marks, right?"

"Well, no, but I'm sure you weren't very far down from it. You know how subjective Potions can be."

"No, it's actually the least subjective subject of all."

Elizabeth seethed with renewed dislike for Snape. Not only was he once a servant of the Dark Lord, but he was also a very bitter man. Her potion had been perfect, she was sure of it. It was no great surprise to her that Snape was nowhere to be seen either. _A bitter man and a coward_, she thought.

"I can't believe tomorrow is the final Feast," Malfoy pushed on, trying to cheer her up. "Thank goodness Slytherin is in the lead. We're going to win again for sure!"

Elizabeth heaved a sigh and pushed her plate aside, completely losing her appetite now. She had tried to put this matter aside, but now she could no longer ignore the fact that she had nowhere to go after school ended in a day. Madam Babcock's was definitely out of the question. At the beginning of this year, she had dreamed of going home with Snape—a real home with a real family at last, but that hope was gone for sure. There was Harry…but no, his hateful aunt and uncle sounded nasty enough with one wizard in the house. She glanced at her side. Malfoy was staring intently at her, looking concerned. An idea sprang into her mind. She would ask him a question that he wouldn't be able to resist.

"Drake, can you tell me about your mansion?"

"You mean _Malfoy Manor_. Everybody wishes they lived there. It's got over a hundred rooms and secret passages, and is the oldest wizarding building in this side of England besides Hogwarts itself," bragged Malfoy. He eyed her suspiciously when he saw Elizabeth smile. "Why?"

"I need a place to stay for the summer. If you parents don't mind—"

Malfoy's eyes grew wide. "Definitely not."

Shocked at such a rude denial, Elizabeth asked, "Why not?"

"Well, uh, you're a girl. That's rather inappropriate isn't it?"

"You have something against me because I'm a girl?"

For the first time, Crabbe and Goyle dropped their wallflower act and sniggered loudly.

Malfoy scowled and snapped at them, "Keep eating and shut up…that's all you two are good for anyways. And no, Elizabeth, it's more than that. Father…he wouldn't accept…non-pure bloods."

She couldn't believe it. "So we are back to _this_ are we?"

For once, Elizabeth thought he looked almost ashamed of himself.

"Promise you'll at least ask. I really have nowhere to go." She tried to look as pitiful she possibly could.

"Oh, drop the act, Liz," snorted Malfoy, "You're not as desperate as that, _and_ if you do come to live with us…well…a lot about you will have to change."

"I don't hear a promise."

"Okay, okay, I'll send an owl as soon as I go upstairs."

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Elizabeth, filling up with her holy hope once more. To both her and Malfoy's complete surprise, she leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. Both their faces turned red enough to cook eggs as Elizabeth stood up to leave the dinner table.

"Well, see you later," she shakily whispered before sped out the doors of the Great Hall.

Elizabeth's heart was beating a mile a minute as she ran outside, slowing only when she reached the courtyard. She breathed hard with her hands gripped tightly on her knees. _What was I thinking? I'll be the golden gossip of Hogwarts for years to come._

The night breeze calmed her down a little. She allowed herself to sit down in the grass when she heard a little jingle of something that fell out of her pocket. Reaching down, her hand felt the sharp edge of broken glass; it was the golden pocket watch she had grown so attached to. She looked at it sadly, her fingers tracing the golden markings on the side of the magically engraved outer casing. It was amazing really, the watch itself was still completely intact; it was just the glass that was broken and the gears that weren't turning. _Perhaps if I just fixed the inside…_

There was a lid on the back of the golden case where Elizabeth assumed that led to the gears on the inside. She pulled hard on the lid, but to no avail; the little piece of metal wouldn't budge. Eventual frustration caused her to throw the broken piece of junk on the floor.

Suddenly, as if spurred by Elizabeth's anger, the watch began to vibrate violently, a spinning, golden disc smacking itself again and again against the ground like something was struggling to get out of it. The delicate engravings that she had tended to ignore glowed like the sun in the dark courtyard. The light acted like an invisible force, both blinding Elizabeth and knocking her out to the ground where she fell down…down…down…

_Rumble…Rumble…Rumble…_ For the second time that week, Elizabeth felt like she was waking up from a long, fantastical dream. Her face lay against something cool and hard and she felt a slight drool almost drip from the side of her of her mouth. She wiped it off with her sleeve as her eyes fluttered open.

"Good, you're awake," grumbled the blonde boy sitting across from her.

"Drake! What happened…" mumbled Elizabeth as she looked around. The last thing she remembered happening was when she tried to fix her pocket watch and then there was a flash of light…how did she end up on the Hogwarts Express home?

"What happened? We lost is what happened! To those moronic Gryffindors! Father won't be pleased, but hopefully I won't have to break the news to him because I think he already knows, with his connections with the Education Ministry and all."

Elizabeth rubbed the side of her sore head; the wooden compartment walls had made a rather terrible headrest. "Oh, darn…but how long have I been asleep?"

"Well, we're almost there, so I'd say around two hours."

_Only?_ Elizabeth thought. _But a whole day had passed! _The lack of memory of yesterday's events deeply disturbed her and since it was not very normal for a person to have such a lapse, she decided this was a secret better kept to herself.

"What's going on with you? You've been acting very odd for the past day and a half…hell, you didn't even recognize me this morning!"

"I-I don't know. I haven't been feeling very…right in the head."

Malfoy sneered, "The trip down to the chambers definitely has addled your brains, but then again, that's normal for you isn't it? But, you better get your act straight soon because I think I see the station. Oh damn! I forgot to tell you our house rules. Never mind, you'll learn them when you get there."

"Get where?"

"Malfoy Manor! I told you this morning Father agreed to let you stay with us— honestly, I don't know where your head goes sometimes!"

"Oh, my goodness! That's wonderful! Why?"

"Why are you so addled? How would I know?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"No! Why did you father suddenly decide to let me stay?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea."

Suddenly, the sound of the loud screech of the train's brakes filled the air and the vehicle came to an abrupt halt. Malfoy pulled his bags from overhead and slid open the compartment door. He looked back at Elizabeth and smirked.

"Beat you to my parents!" He began running down the crowded aisles.

Elizabeth scrambled to get her things.

"This isn't fair! I don't even know what your parents look like!" she yelled as she chased after him.

However, it wasn't very difficult to find the three bright heads among the crowd. A tall, stately man with long hair and a face to match Draco's stood next to an equally dignified-looking woman with a fancy fur coat on. Their smiles were taut and they stood stiffly as if spending time at the train station was as bad as being in a pig sty.

"Hello," she greeted them shyly, "It wonderful to finally meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy."

Malfoy seemed surprised by her good manners. Elizabeth gave him a cheeky smile. Who said she couldn't clean up nicely?

"Hello, Elizabeth," replied Mrs. Malfoy, as kindly as an uncomfortable person could, "We've heard so much about you from Draco. But don't worry, we'll get to know all about each other back at the manor. Dobby, take us home."

Elizabeth looked to what Mrs. Malfoy was addressing and she saw the most curious little creature standing at her feet. It looked meaningfully at Elizabeth with its large, spherical eyes and took hold of her robes. Draco immediately grabbed her hand and before she could ask what was going on, there was a loud _crack!_ and the train station disappeared before her eyes.


	20. Looking Through the Glass

_**If you don't remember where this came from, reread chapter 12 please. This is the last chapter of the first book…hope you tune into the sequel of which I will post the first chapter next. The ending was inspired by Adele's song "Someone Like You." **_

Lily stared in horror at Snape's forearm.  
"You couldn't have—already?" whispered Lily.  
He nodded sadly. "I had no choice. It wasn't like there was anywhere else to go."  
"I was here—"  
"—after the telling off you gave me last time?" His eyebrows raised far up his forehead. "I thought I'd lost you forever."  
Lily looked away in quiet understanding. "I guess this is it then. We'll never be able to be on the same side."  
Snape looked towards the ground, hands in his pocket, "There must be a way-"  
"-No, there isn't! It's all I've been thinking about, and there's no way, not anymore. Besides, James loves me." Her voice cracked. It was evident that she didn't want to believe what she was saying.  
Severus swallowed the lump in his own throat, got up, and pulled Lily's body towards him. For a moment, Severus felt the perfect love that he and Lily had; it was so strong that he knew for a fact that they would never be completely over.

"I thought we were friends?" he whispered into her ear. "Best friends?"  
"Of course, I-", she looked as if she wanted to tell him something, "-never mind. I'll never really be gone, you know. I'll always be here…you can find me when decide to change your ways." She traced her finger over his chest and looked at him pointedly. "_Always_."  
She took out the little golden pocket watch which she always carried around with her, looked at the time, and snapped it shut. "I think…I have to go. James is waiting for me."  
Every bone in Severus' body screamed for him to make her stay, to scrape off the Dark Mark on his skin and leave the darkness forever, but he couldn't. At that moment, he just didn't know which one he wanted more.  
"Goodbye, Sev," she said, and she walked away.

A long-haired man clad in black from head to toe stood alone in front of a crackling fireplace while wringing his hands behind his back. He looked aged although he was barely into adulthood. More importantly, his face revealed something else entirely—madness, caused by working in solitude for too long. Suddenly, there was a sharp crack and at that exact moment, the fire hissed and gave out.

"Severus."

"Yes, My Lord?" Severus instantly stopped fidgeting and his face turned expressionless.

The servant and master stood facing each other in a dim, battered room. There was an apparent tension in the chill air as the visitor began calmly pacing around the premise.

"The Dark Lord has noticed some _reluctance_ in your recent activities, very nearly criminal in my words. Yet…you have been such a _faithful _servant, so I will allow you a chance at mercy, granted that the explanation is…to my liking."

Snape's head tilted a tad upward towards the direction of his inquisitor. "Reluctance, my Lord? Whatever do you mean?"

Voldemort's lips curled as he stood smiling in front of Severus. "I am appalled, Severus. I thought that _you_ of all people would understand the Dark Lord's intentions."

Severus simply stared blankly at the face of his master which still showed signs of once being a handsome man, a real human being.

"I'm afraid I do not understand what you mean, my Lord—I have done your every order without delay."

"Have you, Severus? What about my intent for you to kill James Potter, a member of that infernal Order, and his Mudblood fiancée, Lily…whom he is to marry tomorrow?"

"T-tomorrow?"

Damn it, why'd he have to do that every time he heard her name?

Voldemort's grin became twisted at Severus' display of emotion. "Why, I do believe I have struck a chord with a certain someone's heart." His face suddenly turned very ugly. "You fancy the Mudblood."

Snape's face dropped immediately and he looked down in shame. "No, my Lord…I mean, yes, but it was a very long time ago and she was merely an…acquaintance."

The Dark Lord placed a hand on each of Severus' arms. "Come now, you can tell _me_ the truth. _Merely_ a friend? With such a pretty face and eyes like those? If I weren't so adamant on killing her, I'd be attracted for sure."

Voldemort was smiling again; Severus was sure something was not quite right about it, but couldn't help himself from saying, "Please, just spare her."

"Spare her…" The Dark Lord let go of his servant's shoulders and let out a cold laugh. Severus, on the other hand, was deadly silent. "There, there, don't be so serious. The Dark Lord is not without mercy. Your work has proven your loyalty—I'll spare her…In _fact_, I'll spare them_ both_. I do like a good nuptial between Mudbloods—at least I'll know there are two less of them contaminating the rest of the wizarding world."

Snape was horrified although his expression was still unreadable; his plans of ridding Potter once and for all were disappearing like a vapor.

"This is for yourgood, Severus. I don't want you to think that Lily is the best that's out there. There are better witches, of purer blood, don't you agree?" It was not a question.

The servant bit his lip and bowed his head in consent. "Of course, my Lord."

"Take Bellatrix…a _prime_ example of how a proper witch should be."

Snape threw up a little in his mouth.

"Speaking of Bellatrix, I want to see how she is doing with McKinnon. Don't forget this one favor I have done for you, Severus, and speak of it to no one else."

"I am most grateful—"

"—don't thank me now, I'll find a way to make you _earn _it."

There was another crack and the Dark Lord disappeared and the fireplace was magically relit. Not another moment later, Snape, too, Disapparated into the night.

It was the longest stroll down Godric's Hollow that Severus had ever walked. His mind was spinning— What would he say? Could she finally accept him? One thing was for certain: The Dark Lord was wrong—Lily _was_ the only one for him and he was going to make his feelings clear, prove to her that even after all these years, he still loved her. Surely that would win her over.

However, something he saw stopped him in his tracks—it was_ Lily_, twirling around in her white wedding dress on the second floor of her new home. She was dancing and laughing in a way that Severus had never seen before. He then realized why he was so surprised. It was her look of joy, so pure and unrestrained, a look she had never before disclosed to him. And why was that? He thought back to the day she left him, the last time he ever spoke to her face to face, and he compared her expression then with the one he saw now. They were polar opposites; he barely recognized the Lily he saw through the window.

It would have been so easy to just walk in and confess that he had indeed made the wrong choice and that he had regretted his decision not to leave Voldemort's side ever since the day she made her ultimatum. But the look on her beautiful face turned his legs into lead so that he couldn't enter the house, couldn't be closer to her. He wanted too much for her to be happy, exactly as she was now, and although it killed him to admit it, he knew she could never be this way around him. She was too _good_ to be content with loving a man who worked for Lord Voldemort. His presence would only bring her more worries and more weeping. So he left Godric's Hollow that evening knowing that Lily was happy, as happy she would ever be, and although there would be many torturous nights plagued with regret ahead, at that moment, he knew that this was the only way to truly love her.

_Never mind, I'll find someone like you,_

_I wish nothing but the best for you too,_

_Don't forget me, I beg, I remember you said_

_Sometimes the love it lasts, but sometimes it hurts instead._

_-Adele_


	21. Breakfast at the Malfoys

_**This is the first chapter of the sequel so tune into DARK FORCES. Thanks ! ~sweetrevierie**_

_Crack!_ A small creature with abnormally large ears and eyes suddenly appeared before Elizabeth as she was changing.

"Breakfast is served, madam!" squeaked the little elf.

"I'll be there in a minute, Minnie," said Elizabeth as she stretched her arms across her king sized canopy bed and yawned.

"Yes, ma'am!" and the elf disappeared with another _crack!_

Elizabeth slipped on her emerald colored chiffon dress tailored to fit her like a second skin. Next, she put on the pair of new silver earrings she had gotten for her "birthday" in July. She then proceeded with a subtle touch of make-up and after all was done, admired her work in the great mirror that hung in all its golden glory above her cherry-wood dresser. There was going to be an important visitor today and she wanted to look her best.

Breakfast on the veranda was a daily occurrence at Malfoy Manor and it was expected that everyone was there at nine o' clock sharp. However, Elizabeth took her sweet time descending the grand marble staircase making a dainty _click!_ each time her heels hit the next step.

"Oh, Elizabeth! You're up!" exclaimed Mrs. Malfoy with a tired smile when she spotted the new arrival. "You look absolutely gorgeous." She sighed happily, proud of what a beautiful young lady she had created.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, frowned faintly. Both the Malfoy parents looked even more fatigued than usual, especially Mr. Malfoy, who looked like he was going insane from stress. His hair, which usually had a silky sheen, was coarse and slightly ruffled and the half-moon circles under his eyes looked like teabags ready to be dipped.

"Father, Mother, Draco," she greeted them with a forced smile as she took her seat next to the most lifeless Malfoy.

Draco had a blank look on his face that was not unlike one who's received a Dementor's kiss, but when Elizabeth touched his hand, he immediately came back to life and turned to her.

"Morning, Liz," he grinned weakly. "You look…nice." He gave a sort of _hrrmmph!_ and a cough.

"Thank you, Drake. Well, let's eat."

No one spoke as they ate, and the only noises heard were the chirping of birds and the clink of forks and spoons. The breakfast itself was wonderfully made, but it all tasted bland in their mouths.

"There really isn't anything to worry about," began Elizabeth, who couldn't stand the stressed silence. "I am a true Slytherin …"

There was no immediate response, only more clinking of cups, but eventually Mrs. Malfoy opened her mouth to speak.

"We're not worried for you, Elizabeth. Not worried at all. You'll do wonderfully, I know it."

Elizabeth was not convinced whatsoever, but six years in Malfoy Manor had taught her to keep opinions to herself, and that the best way to get anything done was to secretly do it by one's self. Besides, it was going happen soon and any arguments would only heighten the tension.

Almost like clockwork, the family all felt an immediate chill in the air. Her guest had arrived.


End file.
